Unnamed For Now
by Efforia
Summary: Catherine 005 is one heck of a-of a...what exactly is she? Oh wait. that's just the point. Catherine 005 is one big question mark, and once again she's found her thrust upon some poor soul, but this time her commanding officer is no normal man in charge. An enigma meets a legend, and somehow those great big gears of fate start turning like clockwork again and age old legends renew.
1. Sloppy Encounters

Well everyone, it's about time I put my OC out there. Obviously credit for Halo goes to 343 and Bungie, however Catherine is undoubtedly mine. As for how long is this gonna be, I'll warn you all now, there's 514 handwritten pages so far and that's not even half of it. As for updates, it's a matter of how quickly I get things typed up. Welcome to the journey I guess.

Catherine trudged dejectedly through the icy puddles at her feet in a foul mood. She winced as the frosty chill seeped into her military grade boots. She was a blessed imbecile for insisting that she walk to the nearest mini mart for the simple staple of ramen noodles. Deep down, the redhead knew it was befoonary to leave the base in the current weather, but she was far too stubborn to admit it. One of the helljumpers, Cassandra was her name if Catherine's memory served correctly, had warned her that the chilly rain would be a nuisance the whole trip. She had disregarded the other soldier with the notion that she was a rough and tough, augmented soldier, and although she was no spartan, she could handle some frozen water falling from the sky.

She was wrong.

But the way Catherine saw things, she could ignore being wrong if it meant she had ramen,the precious staple that kept her out of the mess hall. 'Bless the food' she thought as she hugged it inside her coat in a desperate attempt to keep the paper packaging dry and safe from harm.

Her hair was drenched and her military scrubs were going to need more than one cycle in the dryer. Cassandra was going to give her the 'I told you so' look for sure. The roar of a heavy warthog engine sounded behind the drenched girl and she quickly made her way to the side

Of the winding road that led back to the base, however, in her her haste, her boots lost traction on the slippery gravel and she was much too suddenly sent into the mud that awaited her crashing body. A vengeful "argg" flew from her lips when she realized her left foot had sunken deep into the mud and become very stuck.

"I thought military leave was supposed to be relaxing" she grumbled, while trying to comb some of the mud from her neck length fiery locks. Her hair was an absolute disaster, despite most of it being pulled into a side braid. Catherine knew she looked like the picture of defeat, sprawled on the ground, stuck in the mud, and reaching pointlessly for the noodle package that had tumbled just out of reach. The sound of the blasted warthog she had tried so gracelessly hard to avoid came to a stop a few feet away from the scrambling girl, and Catherine sighed dejectedly at the realization that it's driver would have to witness the absolute nonsense she was partaking in. At least she knew a military vehicle would be heading back to the base, and she could likely catch a ride if the driver wasn't a jerk. She could barely hear their footsteps over the pelting rain.

"You seem to be in some trouble there, soldier." a deep, gravely voice yelled over the sound of water droplets hitting the metal hood of his warthog.

"Oh no, I'm just fine, I make a habit of diving into mud puddles and rolling in them like uncultured swine." Catherine shot back sarcastically, not bothering to turn her head from the ramen that was nearly in her grasp, but also close to rolling into a ditch.

"I suppose your predicament is partially my fault. Need a hand?" Catherine could hear the ghost of an amused chortle in his voice. She fully turned, fully prepared to spit a sarcastic comment his way and tell him she just needed a ride, but stopped mid breath when she was met by a hauntingly familiar sight. The classic Army green Spartan armor that was often in the news headlines was only half as surprising as seeing the face of the man under the suit. His helmet was held in a firm grip, a sight that made her jaw drop.

'The universe must truly enjoy toying with me' she thought. Had she known such an important war hero stood before her, she never would have taken to such a sarcastic tone.

She raised her hand in a dumbfounded salute, and the Chief raised an eyebrow."Sir-" she began.

The Spartan cut her off.

"No need for that" he said as he gripped her forearm and pulled her right out of the sludgy earth. The minute she put weight on her left foot, she winced. Realizing her ankle was likely sprained, she lifted it it off the ground a little. The Chief took in her sorry state, before grabbing her dropped items and handing them to her."Can you make it to the passenger door?" he asked as she pulled her standard UNSC jacket tighter around her form.

"Im fine" she mumbled, keeping her head down. She prepared to take a step but quickly found herself losing all balance and footing. She would have been kissing the ground had the Spartan beside her not had the lightning fast reflexes that came with his augmentations. A sharp yelp was drawn from her mouth as he hefted her over his shoulder like a bag of rice in an asian market. "I don't think that's going to work in your favor." he said as he dropped her sopping wet and muddy form into the passenger seat.

"And that's the story of how I hitched a ride with the Master Chief." Catherine finished, successfully explaining the days events to her temporary roommate, while Cassandra gawked at her. The two had been roomies on base for less than two days and Catherine was sure the helljumper thought she was drastically off her rocker.

"So you snagged a ride with the savior of humanity?" Cass asked with a slightly doubtful look.

"Yep" Cat answered, popping the 'p'.

"Please tell me you managed to keep your 'walking entity of sass' self in check for the rest of the ride." Cassandra said, hoping her she had at least a small amount of brain cells. The two soldiers were curled up on one of the military cots, eating away at the ramen that Catherine had managed to salvage. Catherine swallowed a mouthful of food before giving off a wolfish grin.

"Nope"

"What the heck did you say?" the brunette asked, face going white as paper. Catherine's grin widened.

"Welllll..." she began and Cassandra rolled her eyes as the redhead continued her story.

The warthog's tires rolled against the gavel with a vengeance, and Catherine wondered where exactly the Spartan learned to drive. As if sensing her discomfort, the Chief dropped his speed down considerably. "Do you do this often?" Catherine asked humorously. The Chief raised an eyebrow but didn't take his eyes off the road.

"Do what?" he asked.

"Run sopping wet girls off the road and give them a ride. You're quite a suspicious character, Master Chief." she replied cheekily. He snorted at her response, and rewarded her with an almost grin.

"You're hilarious." he muttered, making the drenched girl smirk. She had a feeling hilarious was the nice way of voicing his opinion of her.

"I prefer the term spunky" she said with a wink. He left the discussion at the, and continued to stare down the road.

"So tell me, how am I the suspicious one here, when it's you who went for a stroll in the middle of a downpour?" the Master Chief questioned, deciding that, for some reason, he enjoyed bantering with the strange girl. Catherine held up her noodle package as an answer.

"That's what the mess hall is for." he said, regarding the food in his peripherals. Her grin seemed to slouch as she looked out the window with a grimace.

"Some of ODSTs are less than friendly with me, something about how they can't handle my reckless personality and attitude. I avoid their hangout spots as much as possible. I think they're just mad cause I got one of their buddies in some trouble with command a couple years ago" she explained awkwardly. "But Some of them aren't so bad." she added quickly, heaven forbid she paint Cassandra in a bad light. So she wasn't an ODST. What was she then?

"And what rank do you fall under if I may ask?".Catherine brought her hand up in mock salute.

"Project Forerunner: Catherine 005" she answered, finally introducing herself. The sudden stop of the warthog sent the redhead flying into the dashboard

"Did you say….. Forerunner?" the Chief asked, not looking away from the empty road, despite having stopped the vehicle already.

"I did" she answered as she rubbed her nose. He wasn't a very good driver, was he?

"Explain." he ordered. Catherine gave him a confused, and slightly frightened, expression as she looked at him.

"You don't already know?"The Chief turned his head slowly and looked at her with an unreadable expression."I'll take that as a 'no' then" she said dejectedly.

"Explain." he said bluntly for the second time.

"I... can't" she said, fear seeping into her voice. She had slipped up big time. Revealing Dr. Halsey's secret projects could get her court martialed.

"Then why bring it up?" he asked.

"I thought you would know, your clearance is higher than mine" she answered, gulping when his eyes narrowed. The Chief let out a sigh and parked the warthog on the shoulder of the road. "I'll make you a deal" he began as he pulled the keys from the ignition.

"You can tell me about project Forerunner or this warthog will stay parked, right here, until you feel inclined enough to tell me, and don't say you'll walk, we both know you can't." he said matter-of-factly. Catherine's jaw dropped for the second time that day.

"But…..I can't-" she was cut off by his bland expression.

"One of my closest friends died fighting a Forerunner with me, I need to know the specs on this project for personal reasons" he explained, giving her a serious look. Catherine eyes widened as she puffed out her cheeks with irritation. She'd never really pegged the infamous Spartan as the manipulative type. She was impressed to say the least. Now the question was, would she comply with the game he'd begun, or play it safe? The choice was obvious.

"There's a file in my dorm...I might happen to drop it outside my door to you tomorrow, but only if you drive me back to my dorm". She offered her bargain with a soft smile, hoping to appease Spartan's response was to put the key back into the ignition, and Catherine let out a sigh of relief.

"Smart girl."

"And that's how I ended up hobbling into our dorm an hour ago" Catherine finished. Cassandra smacked her palm against her face.

"You can't go around telling people about the Forerunner project! I was only debriefed on your status because we would be sharing a bunk!" She chided, frustration seeping into her voice.

"Wel he'll be back tomorrow for the file" the previously drenched redhead muttered.

"You're actually going to give it to him?!" Cassandra screeched in question. Catherine winced at the sheer volume of her voice.

"I made a deal with him, and he clearly needs the closure. Catherine said defensively. She had that defiant look in her eyes that Lasky had always said could make mountains feel uncomfortable. She hadn't ever really thought it made sense, but it had made her laugh, therefore she supposed that was why he said it.

"You're bloody mad." Cass grumbled as she stood up and tossed her empty container in the wastebasket. "I'm going to bed, I can't handle any more of your _eccentric_ personality tonight." she said. Catherine's only response was to stick her tongue out at the other girl like the child she was as she relocated to her own cot.

"Have fun at your little date at the doorway tomorrow." Cass threw at her cheekily, drawing a bemused look of slight embarrassment from the redhead.

"It's not like that!" she denounce immediately as the helljumper switched off the lights.

Catherine blinked the sleep from her eyes as she slowly bought herself into a groggy slumped position. She hazily took in Cassandra's empty cot, and the note on the table that likely contained her whereabouts. As thoughtful as it was, the redhead didn't bother much with reading it. Cassandra wasn't her responsibility, and unless it proved to be a nuisance, Catherine didn't tend to bother with her roommates schedules. Pulling her UNSC sweatshirt over her thin pajama shirt, she trudged to the small kitchen, and plucked an apple from the bowl on the counter. The UNSC couldn't provide them with a full pantry, but at least they could leave them a completely random dish of complimentary fruit. Catherine didn't think she'd ever understand the way they handled accommodations. She bit into the crunchy fruit, and tossed it in her hand a couple of times while she chewed, strutting about the tiny dorm as she finished her apple. It was well into the morning when the realization that she was to have a very important visitor coming around, and having forgotten such, had done a total of 0 percent preparation, when a knock sounded on her door. Seeing as her roommate had an access code, it likely wasn't Cassandra. She dashed quickly for one of her sock drawers, and pulled out a slim tablet. She'd stolen it years ago, intent on learning the ins and outs of the project she was involved in. Funny how ONI liked turn people into weapons and leave them out of the loop when they were finished. It was decoded from its original safety protocol, and was left unlocked thanks to the computer skills she'd picked up from the nerds in the tech labs whom she'd swindled I to teaching her. A second knock sounded at the door, and she approached it cautiously before opening it just as slow. The sight of arm green was the first thing to register in her brain, and the gold visor was the second. Or was it orange? Maybe a mix? She couldn't help but contemplate the color scheme in front of her, staring at him for what was quite possibly longer than normal. Catherine felt a slight disappointment that he didn't discard his helmet.

"I uhh-" she began, unsure if she should look at his visor or elsewhere. How exactly was one supposed to converse with a Spartan? Was there etiquette? She didn't even know what that was when it came to normal people.

"Can I come in?" his voice held a far more reserved tone than had the previous day. Her eyes narrowed and she stepped aside, giving him enough room to enter the unsizely dorm. He chuckled softly and Catherine's breath caught in her throat.

"Nice jammies." she looked down at the loose fitting, bright yellow pants she wore and cursed her colorful choice.

" I'm wounded that you've noticed them, they're my best pair." she said dryly. "I believe you're here for this?" she offered him the tablet, and he nodded in thanks.

"I'll return it before I'm deployed again." he promised, nodding in thanks. Catherine mentally hoped he'd at least be discrete. He went to exit her room, but stopped suddenly. "Be careful next time you decide to go for a stroll in The rain. The next person you decide to hitchhike with may not be as good willed and you'd expect." he said. Catherine rolled her eyes.

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm not a child. I can look out for myself, but thanks." she said in annoyed exasperation.

"You're also barely five feet tall and extremely naive. I could have tossed you in the trunk, and you'd have had no way of stopping me. So like I said, be a little more careful." he said before leaving with his helmet on his head and her file in his hand. She stared, mouth agape in shock at his brusque words, before poking her head out the door and calling after him.

"I'm five three!" she declared for the whole base to hear.


	2. Second Impressions

Much to her disappointment, Catherine found herself being deployed the following afternoon, and left Cassandra with an awkward but heartfelt goodbye.

"I don't suppose you ever had your file returned." Cass said as she gave the girl a firm squeeze on the shoulders. In truth, Catherine hadn't really been expecting to get it back. She'd doubted the promise to be more than sweet talk.

"Haven't heard a word about it." she replied with indifference, despite her vexing dismay. She shoved the feeling out of her consciousness, unwilling to analyze it whatsoever.

"You're way to trusting." the helljumper chided. Catherine rolled her eyes at the good natured revelation.

"I wasn't counting think on it's safe return." she admitted. The raven haired girl's eyes widened.

"What? Why not?" Cassandra asked in alarm.

"I told you, he needed closure of some sort, it wasn't hard to tell. I'm sure he plans to hold onto that think for a long time." the shorter soldier explained. Cass sighed in resignation.

"Be careful out there Kit-Kat." she said before Catherine nodded. It was time to make her way to the departure zone.

She was to be stationed on the ship Infinity. Her orders? Continue her training with a new team that was to be pre-selected by command. If there was one think Catherine truly despised, it was working with others. She didn't like to play nice on the playground as the saying goes, and while Catherine was a social creature in the right atmosphere, she'd always had trouble with connecting with her team in the past. She was either at odds with them, or indifferent. Occasionally a lasting friendship was made, but most were merely skin deep. When the resounding thud of her pickup ship was heard, the redhead grabbed her duffle and quickly made her way down the ramp and into Infinity's cargo bay.

"Welcome aboard Infinity 005, Captain Lasky has asked me to escort you to his office, where he will provide you with further instructions." a much too cheery voice explained, causing Catherine to jump in surprise. The redhead turned to she a soldier standing before her, with a small circular device cradled in his hands. Catherine regarded the green AI with interest before taking her from the man.

"Thank you?" Catherine answered doubtfully. She was unsure of how to address the AI, and looked to the marine for aid. His response was to wordlessly walk away, having completed his task.

"Well he was rude." she muttered.

"Please forgive Merdeck. He doesn't speak. Ever." the AI said, smile still in tact. She was acting like a 'dumb' AI, but it was clear such aasn't the case concerning her level of artificial intelligence. A protocol new maybe?

"Oh." she said in a dumbfounded manner. If only her communication skills were as good as her observational ones. 'way to make a first impression Cat.' she scolded mentally.

"So...what should I call you?" she was sounding more ignorant by the minute.

"Well, my number is Ph817639, but you can call me Phelicity." she said, giving off a cheeky grin. Catherine couldn't help but give one in return.

"I think I'm really gonna like you" she said genuinely.

"Well you won't like me very much if I make you late. See that door to your left, through there and to the right Phelicity instructed.

"Yes ma'am" Catherine said jokingly before speeding off in the indicated direction.

"You were on military leave before your transfer to Infinity? Correct?" Philicity questioned, tilting her head curiously. Her hair was brown, with touched of caramel. Catherine briefly wondered what kind of code she'd used to do that.

"I was. Although I'm not to perky about getting g back to work for once." she explained. The AI gave her a questioning look.

"And why's that?" her voice lilted with the inquiry. "Take a right here." she added. Catherine let out a frustrated sigh.

"I think Captain Lasky wants me to learn people skills, hence the reason I'm being placed with a new team. I'd much rather work alone." she bemoaned. Phelicity laughed, drawing a smile from the redhead, despite her foul opinion of her upcoming task.

"Lasky's office is the fifth door down, I have a few things to attend to, but if you need anything, push that little green button." Phelicity explainer gesturing to the small circular device Catherine held from which the AI was projecting herself. With that her green glow faded into nothing. Catherine took a deep breath as she knocked on the door, before it slid open in response. She poked her head inside to see the familiar and somewhat comforting sight of Lasky with his nose buried in paperwork. He hadn't changed a bit. A smile crept onto her face as she remembered her days under his command, always making a ruckus in his office just to get a reaction out of him. Maybe she could dive into one of the bigger stacks of papers-

"I know what you're thinking. Don't you dare." he threatened, not even looking up from his current task. Catherine pouted in a childish manner as she approached his desk.

"You can't possibly have known my intentions." she whined, knowing full well he did.

"You're too old to act as childish as you do." The captain stated, trying his best not to let his lips curve upwards.

"Some of us just never grow up." she said with a wink

"Yes but most of us make it past the age of five." Lasky bantered. Catherine gave the man her signature eye roll and put a hand over her chest, as if she'd been wounded.

"My goodness, shots have been fired." she said, faking a dejected mood before sticking her tongue out just slightly. Lasky chuckled and rewarded her with a grin.

"I feel so bad for your new commanding officer." her old friend said, and Catherine gave him a startled look. That...hadn't been mentioned. She knew there was a new team involved, but she had assumed she'd continue to serve under Lasky once again. The words rang in her head like a constant string of bad news.

"That's not funny LAsky, you just ruined the joke." she said, nervousness hinted in her tone.

"It's no joke Catherine, He'll be arriving on board in the morning." the captain said, giving her an apologetic look. Catherine was fairly sure she was the picturesque definition of the word dumbfounded. No, that didn't do her justice. Flabbergasted was a better description. If one had pulled out a dictionary to research the word, a picture of her own face may as well have accompanied it.

"But-" she started

"No buts, your orders are to operate on his team." Lasky finalized expression apologetic yet firm.

"Exactly how long will this change be in effect?" she asked. Maybe a month or two if she was lucky? They couldn't possibly expect her to completely readjust-

"Permanently." Lasky gulped.

It took Catherine a full hour to clean the mess she made in Lasky's office. Most marines would be punished immediately over an outburst such as the one she put up, throwing the nearest desk into a wall, spilling papers everywhere, but not Catherine. She wasn't exactly enlisted. Technically speaking she didn't exactly exist for that matter. She'd been trained to be a super being of sorts, functioning for the UNSC out of ONIs pocket. Most of the rules applied to her, but the smaller ones? The saluting, and temper control, and the following of orders? That hadn't been part of her training, and she'd functioned better as a military asset when foregoing it. It made life harder on those in charge of her, but her wild, untamed manner of going about things had been most successful thus far. It was, in a discrete way, her job to be a little unmanageable on and off the battlefield. ONI owned very little of her now however, and she found herself slowly losing her get out of jail free cards. Now Lasky had seen a lot of things in his life, from the dangerous covenant troops to Forerunner creatures previously unimagined, but never had he seen such a level of deranged on a human being. It wasn't until she started actually tearing documents apart that he decided to stop her, make her clean the mess up, then send her to the gym to cool down. Catherine wouldn't admit that there was the slightest feeling of guilt towards her actions, and preferred to shove it out of her mind as she beat a punching bag senseless in the most isolated corner of the workout deck. She sent a barrage of hits to the target that caused it to swing backwards, pick up it's moment as it traveled back towards her, and knock her to the floor. There was a nearby snicker, and Catherine looked up to be met with the sight of an armored ODST above her.

"That looked like quite a ride to be on." he said, removing his helmet. Catherine's eyes lit up in delight.

"Horace? I thought you got recruited for the spartan IV program years ago!" she yelped in surprise as he helped her to her feet.

"That was the plan, but in the end I wasn't a good candidate. You on the other hand, I hear you're classified status now." Horace said, wiggling his eyebrows. Horace was a stocky man, with brown hair and eyes who sat right in his mid thirties. He had a short, muscular build, and tanned skin. "I can't believe you went and outdid me." he added with a chortle, and Catherine laughed.

"How about we keep my classified status classified mr loud mouth." she said, dropping her voice to a whisper. She didn't need everyone on the ship knowing her secrets. Especially if someone figured out that a classified file connected to her name was now missing. 'I offered it as a sacrifice to a spartan in return for a ride home.' Yeah, that would _definitely_ go over well.

"Okay miss classified, you stay out of trouble, and maybe we can hang out sometime, just like the old days." the ODST teased, ruffling her hair.

"No promises." she replied cheekily. Horace shook his head and promised to see her later before exiting the gym, and despite her previously sour mood, Catherine found herself relaxing. Horace had been a close friend for a long time, and she was comforted knowing that he too was stationed on the large ship. The redhead made her way to her new dorm soon after her encounter with Horace, and after a couple tries was able to get the lock code to work properly. She was pleasantly surprised to find that her accomodations were a step up from her previous dorm. She dropped her duffle unceremoniously onto the counter and fell into her cot. She had a new commander. No more fun time with Lasky from now on. Catherine wasn't usually so upset by change, but Lasky was that dad friend that she always counted on. How could she not be a little upset? The short girl let out a huff as she sat up from her cot. She needed a good meal. Infinity had changed a lot since she was last stationed there, and Catherine had a bit of trouble actually finding the mess hall. Thankfully the quality of the food hadn't changed in her time away. It was just as delectable as she remembered. She stared out the bay window as stars floated by, and couldn't help but smile. Being on the ground was nice, and there was nothing like a breeze of fresh air on her pale skin, but nothing held a candle to being among the stars. They called to her, like sirens of the night sky. She found herself wandering around the ship for the remainder of the evening, or at least what the digital clock assured her was evening by set standards. She showered quickly when she finally came across the bathroom, but stopped in front of the mirror long enough to speculate. Her lips weren't thin, but the weren't large either. Her face was mostly round, accenting the little angular curves here and there. Her green eyes held a brightness to them that never seemed to dim, the twin emeralds framing her thin, small nose. Then there was her most distinct feature. The red, shoulder length hair that lay atop her head. It wasn't your normal shade of red hair, but more accurately a deep scarlet. A true blood red. Fiery hair for a fiery individual she supposed.

"I can't thank you enough for meeting with me this early despite having just arrived." Lasky thanked, giving the Spartans before him a gracious look.

"It's no trouble." Linda replied gruffly.

"As you all know, your team has been selected to take on a new member." Lasky began. The groups leader leaned stiffly against the cold steel of the bulkhead, his daunting height leaving him at seven feet tall when hunched over a bit. "I'd like to debrief you all personally on 005." the captain continued. He was interrupted however by the brown eyed brunette to Linda's left.

"We've already been debriefed by command." Kelly said, earning a nod of agreement from the teal armored Spartan behind her. Lasky chuckled, almost nervously if Kelly heard right.

"I'm sure they did. But I'd like to give you a more...thorough look on Catherine. More specifically her _unique qualities_." he explained, gaining a raised brow from Frederick. It was then that the dark haired man noticed the desk Lasky stood in front of. It was scratched as if it has slid against the metal floor, and paper were stocked messily on top of it.

"Captain, what happened in here?" he asked, gesturing to the mess behind him. The captain gave him a mischievous grin of sorts, seeing the perfect opportunity to drive his point home. "Catherine 005 happened."


	3. Self Reflection

Hello readers, unfortunately my editor has been very busy as of late, and while I have tried to catch all the mistakes made when typing it up through that wonderful little vocal recording text app on google docs, I' sure I've still missed a few mistakes, apologies for those, I promise they won't be consistent.

The shrill beeping of her alarm sent Catherine tumbling out of her bed early that morning. She glared at the offending piece of tech before smacking it off her night stand with far too much force. The poor little clock continued to ring fiercely and it was only then that Catherine realized she'd have to unplug the stupid thing. She sat awkwardly on her cot, contemplating what to do with herself once the alarm had been silenced. She could go the gym then hope that Horace showed up, or maybe explore the cargo hold a little. That had always been her hiding place when she was avoiding Lasky after a bit of mischief, but what if she was to await orders concerning her new commander? Waiting like this was infuriating, and it was quickly leaving her even more agitated about the situation. Usually she'd read the specs on the people she was to work with before encountering them, but she'd been offered no information on the subject. She could always try sneaking past the encrypted firewall and search out the information herself, but having lost a previously stolen file, she didn't dare touch any others. "I wonder how many lines I'd have to cross to actually get into trouble?" she mused to herself. She wasn't used to facing punishment in her line of work, but then again, during the war, no one had cared what she did. She was out there saving lives, better than any of the other marines could. The only thing higher than herself on the food chain in her opinion was the Spartans, and some of the IVs didn't even appear that intimidating to her. The spartan program had always intrigued her, but Halsey had managed to keep her sticky fingers off of any intel concerning it, and Catherine was therefore left with too many blank spaces concerning the larger than life soldiers. Part of her couldn't help but think they'd be a fun crowd to roughhouse with in the gym. You know, if she decided she didn't mind broken bones all that much. The redhead eventually opted for picking up the small circular object on her nightstand, and pressed the green button once, then twice, then a third time, poking it with a look of Confusion.

"My goodness have some patience." Phelicity's small green form yelled as she materialized before the impatient human.

"Sorry, I couldn't tell if it was working or not." she said sheepishly.

"Well what did you need? "Felicity asked, tapping her small, green foot. The AI looked impatient, as if she'd been in the middle of going over important code of some sort when she'd been summoned. The action reminded her of a scientist being interrupted from her research.

"Do you think you could keep me occupied for a little while?" Catherine asked and the AI faltered. She wasn't exactly programmed for such a purpose, but she supposed it wasn't outside her capabilities

" I…. Yes."She said, not having expected the question. "What can I do to distract you?" she asked. And so Catherine went on to indulge the AI in a few tales about her time working for the UNSC, going on about times she'd nearly gotten herself killed, fighting the many races of the covenant. The AI probably had access to every mission report she'd ever written, but having someone to talk to would keep her busy for the time being. Although, Catherine suspected the AI had used an algorithm of some sort to respond to her stories while her actual 'brain' worked on whatever projects she'd already been indulged in. It was successful in getting her mind off the impending confrontation she'd eventually have to face. A sudden blip of sound from Phelicity's projector caused her to pause in her tales, and the green AI blinked as she ran over the data she had received. "Orders from Lasky, he says your commander is waiting for you in the gym." she told Catherine, delivering the message she'd received.

"The gym?" she questioned, finding the location for such a meeting to be a bit odd. She'd imagined he'd want to meet with her in the boardroom, or maybe Lasky's office.

"He likely wants to test you in combat situations and get an impression on your skills." Phelicity explained as Catherine sat up and pulled on her boots. "Maybe he's planning to test your mettle." the AI continued. Catherine mentally snorted at the idea. He was probably some age old commander like Hood, grey beard and full of reprimands to give her impending behavior. She hoped for the sake of whoever the poor soul was that _he_ didn't intend to test her skills in combat. Then again, it would be amusing to land her new commander on his arse on the first day.

"Well he has a lot of metal to test." Catherine said, tying her laces with a tight knot as she usually did before going into battle.

"you're feeling feisty for someone who doesn't know what she's up against." Phelicity said, noticing the challenging look that the redhead sported. Even the AI herself hadn't been allowed access to the identity of the redhead's new team.

"I don't need to." she claimed childishly, a pout on her face." have a little faith in me." she teased, providing a wink with the mischievous glint in her eyes.

If Catherine was asked about it, she'd deny that she got lost on her way to the gym. Sure she knew where it was on the map, but in accordance with her dorm, that part was a little tricky. She'd taken a wrong corridor, retraced her steps too far back, then ran right past the doors the first time she came upon them. She was only able to correctly retrace her steps when she found herself outside the mess hall. Leave it to her to know exactly where the mess hall was in accordance of everything else. By the time she actually found her way to the large double doors her feisty 'I'm prepared to show this new commander what he's in for' attitude had shriveled up and died into more of a 'Let the round swallow me whole and save me from embarrassment' attitude, that left her giving the double door entrance a disdainful look. She pushed the left door open and slipped inside, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. The gym was quite full, and there was very little equipment that wasn't in use. She slunk to the back of the the first deck, near the sparring ring to wait, seeing as not many people resided there. Was she supposed to do something? She couldn't exactly approach someone if she didn't know who she was looking for. The gym had three levels, and the topmost deck held a fireteam of Spartans, competing in an endurance race of sorts on the treadmills. It wasn't long before a tall figure approached her, and Catherine could have sworn he was looking at her in amusement, as if there was some sort of joke written on her face that she wasn't informed of. The man had short dark hair, close to a raven color, and a smirk she was sure must have usually been present.

"Hey there!" Catherine looked up at the man's face in curiosity, taking in the thin scar on his jaw and thicker one on his nose. "You waiting for a turn in the ring? You look fiery enough to go a round with me." he inquired in a manner that had Catherine scrunching her nose. That was possibly the most cringe worthy pick-up line she'd ever had to suffer through. He was much taller than her, and Cat had to check his shoes with a brief glance to make sure his boots didn't have a noticeable heel. She narrowed her eyes at the buff figure and she decided she had a liking for the idea of kicking his ass into the next decade. Catherine couldn't help mixing her violent streak with her easily irritable nature. It was just how her brain functioned.

"Yeah, I guess so." she answered, feigning disinterest. She pulled herself off the wall she had taken to leaning on, before ducking into the matted spar zone. The other soldier joined her and prepared himself with a defensive stance. A few people turned to look, but quickly averted their eyes upon noticing her opponent. Was she missing something here? She took one look at his stance and her green eyes took on a more neon shade, and she began to see things she knew others couldn't. His weaknesses flagged in her brain as she shifted weight on his other leg. He didn't like putting all of his weight on his left knee, but his right ankle couldn't support too much either so he had to keep his weight perfectly balanced. His arm stayed slightly turned inward, telling her he planned to use them as his main defense. Catherine smirked before she blinked and her eyes returned to their normal green. Little-by-little the flagged weaknesses disappeared from her vision as she took her stance, making sure to give away as little as possible about her own tactics. All those augmentations had most definitely honed her skills, and she was more than happy to show off. As she was expecting, he made the first move, lunging towards her with his right fist poised to jab at her shoulder but she maneuvered behind him and sent him sent a forceful kick into the back of his left knee. He rolled, and He was on his feet again and seconds, using the momentum to come at her faster than before, and Catherine immediately had to go on defense when he suddenly sped up his movements, nearly hitting her square in the face twice. She had to roll onto the floor to avoid his third attempt and took the opportunity to sweep his feet out from under him, but it backfired and he came crashing down on top of her. She put her knee swiftly into his stomach, and met a wall of hard muscle. The attack caused him to shift away, and Cat slid towards his retreating form, turning the spar into more of a wrestling match as her arms went around his neck and her legs around his torso. He raised an eyebrow at her, as if questioning if she really thought she could pn him. Then he did something unexpected, standing quickly to his full height while she practically clung to his chest, only to be lifted off when he grabbed her shoulders and tossed her a few feet away, earning a yelp of surprise. He took the provided opportunity to pin her, and despite having clearly lost, she continued to struggle.

"That's enough Fred." a very familiar voice called out, and the other soldier stood up from previously pinning her to the floor. Catherine's head shot in the direction of the helmet muffled voice. There he stood, and all his seven foot glory. But not just him. Two other Spartan stood a bit behind him, their helmeted heads inclined towards her. They seemed curious, like two lions scoping out a creature that they had come home to find in their den. It was beginning to get on her nerves how this man seemed to pop up at the worst moment and awful lot. He seemed to have a talent for it.

"you-" she started but was cut off when he raised a hand.

" _you_" he said putting emphasis on the word "are very late." he finished.

" well it isn't my fault this ship is so huge." she said, taking the defensive. How dare he pick at her like that when it was only her first day back on a ship that was more or less foreign ground to her. It took a moment or two, but his words began to slowly sink into the and analyzing membranes in her head. Her commanding officer was the one waiting for her in this very gym. That information was disclosed to everyone else, so how the hell did the Spartan know she wasn't on time for something. "wait, how… how did you." she stumbled on her words and Fred snickered as she marched up to the green armored Spartan. He'd begun to infuriate her little by little since setting foot in her life, and now she was angry. Giving him a file on the project she was involved in had not been an invitation for him to stalk her in any sense of the word." You listen here, it's one thing to keep my file, but checking into my personal business is just downright unacceptable." she chided, poking his chest threateningly. Fred chuckled softly at her outburst. " Oh shut your face hole! Don't you have somewhere else to be?" she asked her previous opponent in exasperation.

" Seeing as hes 1 of my Spartans, I'd say he's right where he supposed to be, and most soldiers know better than to tell their commanding officer what's acceptable. I believe I get to decide that now." the chief said trying very hard not to let Catherine see how much he was enjoying himself. He'd had his fair share of officers that pulled the rank card on him, and now that he'd been handed the opportunity it was more than a little tempting to get a taste of it himself. Besides, a small part of him was curious to see how she would respond to the jibe. He'd been warned about her indifference towards those in charge, but now that he called the shots, that was going to change. Catherine's eyes went wide and, her jaw dropped, and she felt her insides shrivel up like a slug that had been dumped in salt.

"What?" she said, far too dumbfounded to make a good comeback.

"I said-" he began but he stopped speaking the minute he saw the emotion on her face turning something devilishly angry.

"you set me up! You are watching the whole fight!" she exclaimed fury seeping into her tone. _He_ was this mystery commander with all the yellow tape. It made sense. He was a Spartan, and everything concerning them was very hush hush. But it had to be him! Of all people! Had he been testing her integrity by convincing her to give up information on the project? Was she now in danger of some _real _repercussions? Catherine couldn't help the livid emotions that coursed through her chest. And the spar, it had clearly been orchestrated to test her combat response. Of course he'd doubt her capabilities, having caught her rolling in the mud.

"In a way, yes." he answered slowly, remembering the state of Lasky's desk and mentally adding up the bill if she destroyed any gym equipment. The redhead grit her teeth.

" Well and hope you like what you saw." she said bitterly, before marching out in an undignified manner, huffing as her hair swayed around her shoulders with her angry footsteps. It was tousled from her match with the other Spartan, Frederick, who was watching her with amused pity. The fact that _that_ was their newest mission actually excited him. She was so very civilian, but it was clear that she had a spark in her that was so very….fearsome. She was fearsome, he decided as he watched her head of red disappear into a sea of brown and blonde. Interesting. She was very interesting, and Frederick had a feeling he was going to greatly enjoy her presence on their team, assuming he was able to get back into her good books, seeing as after aiding in her embarrassment he was probably not present on the list of people she liked.

"Well she something else, you sure it was a good idea to make her mad?" Fred asked.

" I want to see what she could do, other than get herself stuck in the mud puddles, and surprises the best way to get a true impression." he explained. His head turned towards Frederick who was still watching the retreating redhead, and his eyes narrowed a little.

"I like her." Fred said suddenly, surprising the other three Spartans. "What? She's spunky." "She's a bit lacking in the ways of a filter between mouth and head, but I think that fiery spirit may just be what project foreigner requires of her."Linda mumbled, electing a grin from Kelly.

"I wonder if she likes books." Kelly thought aloud, always the reader. Fred grimaced and shot her a glare.

"We don't need anymore but worms, one is enough." he groaned, drawing a small snort from the chief.

"I can't believe how badly this situation has gotten." Catherine said, forcefully stabbing her steamed carrots with a plastic fork. She'd taken her food from the mess to her dorm, feeling too 'out in the open' merely sitting at a table where the Spartans could join her. They made her uncomfortable, and she had a feeling they were going to spend an awful lot of time looking down on her.

"What's so bad about the Chief? He's a respectable war hero." Phelicity asked, unsure of what had left her in an even worse mood.

"well he came off as more of a pretentious pain in the backside today." she said as she

chomped on her lunch furiously.

"Give the man a break Cat, he's been through a lot of war in his life, and Spartans are not the most socially smart people out there, I'm sure he didn't realize he if did anything to offend you. From what little I've seen they're playful with each other, but they don't really understand other people, and they don't spend much time in the company of others. Give it some time and you may find you can keep up with them better." Felicity reasoned, and Catherine rolled her eyes.

"He had the audacity to show up and act all smug after he never even brought back my file back" she complained to the AI.

"Your file?" she asked, and Catherine nearly choked.

"That's not important!" she covered quickly. The last think she needed was the AI informing Lasky of her slip up. Although, he'd probably sweep in under the rug if her puppy dog eyes were convincing enough. "I just….I don't like them." she muttered.

"You haven't even met the rest of the crew. Have you considered that this sort of response was slightly premeditated? You did say that you weren't fond of this idea from the start." Philicity pointed out. That made Catherine stop and think. Had she been overly aggressive out of a prejudice for her new team?

"I..don't know, maybe, not intentionally…." she trailed off.

"well good luck with your new commander, I have to report to command, and if Infinities camera systems are giving me the correct feed, I believe you're about to have a visiter." Phelicity said with a wink before her digital form disappeared.

"As if Infinities camera system is _ever_ not on top of things." she grumbled and wasn't surprised to hear a knock on her door. She tapped a few buttons and the door slid open at her request." can I help you- "the read head began but stopped when a digital file enter her vision, as she looked up, her eyes taking in the green armored shoulders and neck. Her eyes landed on his face only for her to jerk back at the realization that his helmet wasn't present. Her eyes were wide and full of surprise. It was one thing to show his face on military leaf, but while being stationed too? She took the file in her hand but didn't pull it from his grip. Why was he here? Did he just want to embarrass her even more?

" I fully intended to return it." He began in that deep gravelly voice with a scratchy undertone. Catherine went to open her mouth but the chief continued.

" you left before I got the chance, but apparently I never needed it in the first place." he said, referring to what was their permanent partnership. Catherine was only half listening to his explanation. She was far too busy taking in his sharp features and very blue eyes. What she found most surprising was his dark ebony hair that was most definitely not in the standard military cut but instead showed obvious traces of helmet hair, unlike the other Spartan who had a pin straight military cut, a style that left little room for creativity. unknown to her, Catherine's eyes had taken on the neon color they always did when she was analyzing. The Spartan had stopped talking the moment he noticed and the curious part of him took over. He stood there and watched her, taking a moment to look over her face, storing away the contours of her high cheekbones away in his memory, waiting to see how long it would take her to come back down-to-earth. It wasn't until the flags began to pop up in her vision that she realized what she was doing but now that she had started she couldn't just stop. He had his shoulders hunched slightly not because he was tired, but because he was simply relaxed at the moment, unlike how he'd been in the gym. He had a subtle dimple in his cheek, but it lacked depth as if it wasn't put to use often. He didn't lean to any specific side, so it his muscles must have been in tip top shape. His hands hung loosely at his side, large enough to cover 2/3 of her head, but the twitch in his fingers told her they could be battle ready before she could even say covenant.

"Are you almost finished? " He asked, drawing Catherine from her head and back into the real world. She jumped suddenly, her delayed reaction catching up to her and the bright, otherworldly color of her eyes faded away

" huh?" she asked a bit confused.

" Your analysis." he explained. Catherine tilted her head to the side, and in the back of his mind he found the action somewhat….. how did one describe it….endearing?

"Do you never notice when it happens? or do you have more control of it when in a borderline dangerous position?" he asked, truly curious. He knew a little but about her enhanced abilities, but the science behind them was far outside his understanding. Despite the fact that she had not proven to be the brightest person up to that point, he had a feeling a lot of her augmentations were meant to strengthen an high level of intelligence that was already there. Smart but clumsy maybe? Or perhaps that was what she wanted him to think. He was going to be rather occupied figuring out the puzzle before him for a while.

"I only do it when I'm in a one on one fight. I'm too distracted otherwise." she claimed. In truth she usually caught herself blanking out but until now the idea that she had been using what she considered her superpower hadn't occurred to her. It was then that she realized that he'd let go of the tablet, and she was holding it in mid air like an imbecile." I suppose it's possible I did it unconsciously." she said to herself, tapping her finger against her cheek thoughtfully. Smart, clumsy, and distractable. The list was getting a little longer, but not by much.

"you are by far the strangest thing I've ever encountered." the chief chuckled and Catherine puffed out her cheeks.

"no, you just always find me in my odd moments." she complained as she childishly turned her head away. The chief, in his defense, at least tried to keep the smile off his face. He wasn't sure why he was so easy going with her, but against his better judgment and everything he'd come to learn about how displeasing normal people could be to people like him, he decided that was okay.

" Either way, It would be optimal that you get a better grip on those 'odd moments'. I expect to see you in the mess Hall for debriefing on and extraction mission in 4 hours. Preferably on time." he ordered, returning to the straight posture and commander like way of speaking he'd used in the gym and Catherine felt her mood sour. For a short minute, she had forgotten he was her commander, and maybe even gotten the lines confused enough to call him her friend. She had actually forgotten how much she disliked him.

"Right, I'll be there." she said and she felt a tinge of heat creep up her neck when realizing the disappointment of her mood had been very apparent in her voice. His eyebrows furrowed as he realized he'd taken a psychological step backward with the read head but couldn't figure out how he'd done it.

" John." he said suddenly, stopping Catherine mid movement as she prepared to turn away from the doorway.

"What?" she asked, completely baffled. Did he just...no, no way.

"My name is John, when I'm not in the helmet at least, Lasky says you connect better when personal identification is involved, I'll admit it's not something I understand, but I'm not the one who's new on the block." he explained as if what he'd just done was completely normal. They both knew it wasn't.


	4. Action On the Clock

Catherine, despite her slight time crunch, had decided to humor herself and seek out Horace an hour after John had left her quarters. Finding the ODST had been a challenge, but she eventually discovered him loading a drop ship in the hangar.

"Heading somewhere? "she asked, startling him.

"Just off to fight some covenant rebels." His vague reply suggested there was more to the mission then had been publicly released. Catherine nodded grimly and put a hand on his shoulder.

"Be careful out there, I have few friends on Infinity as it is." Horace offered her a small smile.

"Don't worry about me Cat, I have a girl to come back to and she just might kill me if I come back in more than one piece, us hell jumpers are crazy like that." the soldier joked, lightening the mood ever so slightly. Catherine laughed, her grin so wide her canines became visible. Cassandra would be proud to hear how he had described her family.

"Don't I know it." she muttered. Horace sent her a cheeky smile as he and his platoon loaded into their dropship. Catherine had waved him off when the airlock opened and the drop ship slipped into the open, awaiting space.

"friend of yours?" the voice actually caused Catherine to the jump surprise. The read head turned around to see two armor clad forms. These Spartans were too quiet considering all the metal bulk they dragged around. 'You would think they'd be easier to hear coming' she thought as she took in their stature.

"Yeah. Sure." she said skeptically. She didn't know these people, and Spartans weren't simply friendly creatures from what she had heard. It made sense that they would be curious to learn about her, seeing as they'd likely be counting on each other in the field.

"I don't think we've been properly introduced, since we'll be working with each other, call me Linda." The female one, who Catherine only just realized upon hearing her voice was in fact female, spoke up gruffly. Catherine expected an outstretched hand for a few moments, or some sort of offer of contact, but then she remembered who she was dealing with. A spartan wasn't very likely to shake her hand upon introduction. And so she caught herself standing there with what was likely a very dumb look on her face. She wasn't sure how to respond now, but one thing was clear. They were trying to be nice by their standards.

The most unfriendly creatures in the UNSC were trying to play nice with the second most unfriendly creature they had to offer. And there lied the problem. Catherine didn't play nice. She didn't know how to put her own distaste aside for the sake of peaceful relations. All her friendships up to this point had been built on one sided efforts that were most definitely not hers, however, she doubted such unsociable people would meet her more than halfway. She didn't do halfway, as it was an investment that could easily go up in flames in her face. She didn't make risks like that anymore. That Catherine, the more innocent one who was exuberant friendly, was buried deep in her subconscious long ago. It took a long time and a lot of unshakeable will to become anything but acquaintances with the red haired woman, assuming they were willing to look past the sarcastic comments and attitude. That, and anyone intending to survive such a friendship would need a whole lot of crazy

Finally coming to a decision, Catherine held out her own hand, for no reason other than to end the awkward silence between them. "Catherine 005." she exchanged stiffly. Linda looked down at the hand with a blank look, and Catherine suddenly felt even more stupid.

"And I'm Frederick, pleasure to meet you ma'am, I'm the Lieutenant on the team, so if you need anything, come see me." The man beside her said, quickly taking her hand in Linda's place. Catherine's blood ran a little cold at the recognition of his voice. The cocky one from the gym. She pulled back quickly from his grip, seeing no rudeness in the action as the hand had not been offered to him. The teal armored Spartan didn't miss a beat.

Frederick took in her guarded posture with interest. Her answer to his question had been vague, and now he was curious. "So, your _friend_, is he just a friend?" Her nose scrunched, and Frederick already had his answer. Linda shot him a look that he didn't need to see her face to receive. He was playing a game with the redhead and she wasn't interested in making a counter move.

"He's an old friend, he's got a girl, and it's _not_ me." she specified, expecting him to drop the topic. The emphasis she put on 'not' was, unbeknown to her, her undoing. She had just given Frederick an opportunity to label off the competition.

"Well that's relieving, I'd hate to see some poor ODST have to compete with Chief, wouldn't end well for that poor guy." he said, cheeky grin evident in his voice. It took her a moment to realize his connotation, and a flabbergasted look took a home on her face. Frederick was the stark opposite of Linda, she realized. He was a little _too_ friendly, and Catherine found herself wishing Linda's monotone attitude would regain control of the conversation. However the brown Spartan seemed curious about her team members behavior, and neglected to interject.

"Where on earth did you get an idea like that!" she asked defensively. Frederick paused, and seemed to analyze her state. She hadn't been nearly as offended over his previous accusation. Maybe it wasn't time to cross his brother off the list just yet.

"Well you two seem to have a…._special_ way of interacting. I don't usually see him take the kind of attitude you give. But maybe I'm reading into it to much." he said with a shrug, but the tone in his voice spoke that he did not, in fact, think that he was _reading into it too much. _Catherine's eye twitched.

"I don't take part in that sort of thing, people tend to die a lot in my line of work." she said venomously. She didn't care that it probably stung both her team members considering their history. Frederick, this absolutely infuriating man, was pushing all the buttons she didn't like pushed. Linda, realizing the topic had suddenly taken a dangerous turn, opened her mouth to change the subject before Frederick said something that made the next few months of their lives immensely unpleasant concerning their new team member, but he was too fast.

"Well that's perfect, your both equally senile on the topic. Look Linda, they're perfect for eachoth-" Fred's grand teasing session was cut short when a fist hit him square in the visor. If he hadn't been hunched just slightly to bring himself closure to the redhead's height, she'd never have reached. His HUD went dead, and the polaroid glass shifted ever so slightly out of alignment. Both Spartan's stood stunned at the rash decision she had just made as she turned on her heel and stormed out of the hanger, evidently fuming.

Linda felt little remorse for Fred, but her surprise was well warranted. Not only had the action been gutsy, she hadn't been expecting such a small person to pack such a strong blow. Maybe she really was extensively augmented despite her lack of visual proof. "Nice punch." she called after the other woman after a moment of thought. Fred removed his helmet, a broad grin on his face.

"I'll admit it, I think I'm really gonna like her." he admitted.

"Because she punched you in the face when you deserved it? What the heck were you thinking? I'm not sure if you were trying to play matchmaker, or even the playing field." Linda scolded his behavior.

"No, because she's….spicy. I was just gauging her reaction." he defended.

"You were pushing her buttons is what you were doing. "

As Catherine left the hanger, her fist stung with a vengeance. Miljnor Armor was apparently as strong as Dr. Halsey had claimed it was. Her fingers were swollen and bruised, and a small amount of blood spilled from the tiny cracks in her skin. Why was she so self destructive? She needed to get her anger in check now that she was in a whole new league. "I'm going to be the death of myself." she grumbled.

She needed to hurry if she was going to have time to clean up the mess she had made of her hand and make it on time to her mission debrief. As she shuffled towards the washroom, she took a glance at her black, digital wristwatch, and felt her stomach drop. 'Am I doomed to be late to everything or am I just unlucky in all aspects of life?' she questioned herself. She'd have to skip the washroom. The people she passed in the hall gave her an odd look upon noticing her damaged appendage, and she felt her face grow a little warm. It probably looked as if she was fleeing the scene of a fight. She was breathing heavily by the time she reached the mess, having had to pick up her pace, and she waltzed in a whole five minutes late. There were a few other meetings taking place at the larger tables, and a gaggle of marines eating a meal around one of the smaller tables. And then there was the Spartans, seated at the corner of the room. It looked as if they hadn't began yet, but they all turned to place their eyes on her as she approached, and red dusted her face at all the attention to her mistake.

"I hope for your sake that your not always late. Otherwise you're going to find yourself facing some unwanted repercussions." It was a warning, she realized. Not an unkind one, but a warning all the same. It was clear in the dissapointed tone in his voice that he was just referring to her time management. He wasn't going to be as lenient with her as others had been. Her ONI status was worth absolutely nothing to him, and whether she responded to punishment by the board or not, she would face consequences. Her get out of jail free card had officially run out of effectiveness, and Catherine wasn't particularly displeased with him. She had been worse than she usually was as of recent. She kept her hand out of sight, not wanting to draw any more attention.

"I uhh-" she started but another voice cut her off.

"Go easy on her Chief, she wasn't the only untimely one this time around, Linda and I were held up too." Frederick spoke up, offering her a gentle look. Her eyes narrowed.

"I don't need your help." _or your peace offering. _Fred snorted quietly at her newfound distaste for him as she took a seat. His helmet wasn't present, and she took notice of this fact. "I didn't think your kind showed your faces in public, where's the helmet now?" she asked, feigning curiosity. Fred stiffened ever so slightly.

"HUD needed repairs." Or more accurately, a certain redhead broke it as payback for his attempt at pairing her up with their commander. But Frederick wouldn't dare admit to that in front of the Chief himself.

"Wouldn't want dysfunctional equipment on a mission, good thing you took it in." she said, a sweet and sour undertone to the statement. 'Now whose embarrassed.' she thought triumphantly.

"Knock it off you two, we have work to do." John interrupted, removing his helmet in hopes that it would diffuse the tension. Something about not seeing his face often made other marines wary, and the last thing he wanted was to put the redhead through anymore discomfort than necessary. He'd play nice for now if it would yield a better response from their newest member. "We received an update on Jul M'dama's rebel group, and what they've been up to as of recent. They've been building a bomb, a big one, and a couple hours ago it was planted on one of the colony worlds. A team is out there clearing the area as we speak, but it has to be terminated remotely if we don't want it to level a couple cities. We need to get the detonator out of the picture, but that means infiltrating a covenant base." It was then that Catherine realized exactly where Horace was going.

"What happens to the response team if we don't-"

"Bad things. We won't have room for error." the blue Spartan beside her spoke up.

"Kelly's right, we're gonna have to be delicate with this one." Linda spoke up. Kelly. Another name on her list. John, Linda, Fred, and Kelly. She would need to learn their designation numbers as well for COM use. Delicate meant lethal, and lethal meant that Horace's life was indirectly in their hands.

"Once we reach the facility, Linda will cover us from above. Frederick and I will keep a path clear for entrance. I need you and Kelly to be ready to slip in as quickly as possible, and we'll continue to raise a distraction outside the felicity. Under no circumstances will it be acceptable to defy orders. We don't have time to fix any serious mistakes." Catherine winced at the end of his speech knowing full well that it was directed at her. Even worse, she knew she wasn't going to listen to it in the long run. She was in the business of saving lives, not following orders. This was why she didn't like to operate on a team. There was a terse silence for a moment before Frederick spoke up to soften the mood.

"Think you can be on time?" he asked her with a smirk. Catherine rolled her eyes at the realization that she had just become the team's comedy central. John shot him a glare, and dismissed the meeting. Catherine began to stand up from her seat after the other three had left, but a pair of firm hands settled on her shoulders and pushed her back down.

"Stay for a moment." he ordered, and Catherine gulped.

"If this is about my bad timing-" she was cut off as he took her small wrist in his hand and bought her bruised appendage closer to examine her swollen fingers. She prayed that he didn't feel her pulse pounding as his thumb was resting directly on it.

"Explain." he ordered. He did that a lot. She supposed he wasn't one for unnecessary words when he wanted information. Her pulse spiked. He noticed.

"I slammed my had in a door." she said in a rush, then winced at the realization that she hadn't sounded the least bit convincing.

"Infinity has motion sensors on it's doors, how exactly could you have managed that?" he caught her lie.

"It's not important and it's my business." she tried again. He narrowed his eyes at her before sighing deeply and running a hand through his short brown hair in a manner that Catherine found very….human. Huh.

"I'm not your enemy here, but I want to know who is." he stated softly. Oh. Catherine immediately recalled the information she had given him about her little escapades that took place on leave. Sure she'd been bullied, cornered a few times even, but nothing physical had ever occurred. They knew better than to mess with her hot temper. Everyone did for that matter. Still, she could see how bad it must have looked from his perspective. Unfortunately for her, it was time to fess up.

"I broke Fred's helmet." she admitted. John didn't speak for a moment, unsure of what to say.

"Why?" the question held no malice, or disappointment. Maybe a tinge of confusion, but nothing else.

"He was...picking at me. I responded incorrectly I'll admit, but he still deserved it." Catherine, despite not having received a single harsh word from him on the topic, looked like a scolded child. She knew what she had done was initially wrong. So she wasn't all bad. There was an honorable marine in there somewhere. But now John was curious. If she wasn't truly as unruly on the inside as she was on the outside, what reason did she have for acting out so much. Was it a tactic of some sort?

"Get that looked at by a physician." he said simply, dropping her hand. He said nothing more on the topic and exited the mess as the rest of his team had. She could have sworn she caught a glint of amusement on his face.

John always ran system checks on his armor before missions. It didn't matter if everything appeared to be working as it should. The lab technicians regarded him warily, but they were mostly used to seeing him around by now. He was clad in a black, skin tight biosuit that would allow the armor to sit perfectly on his form. The adhesive gel between his skin and the suit felt like a second skin, and it was one he was well acquainted with after years of using it. "I saw that little move you pulled today. Real smooth there Chief." John raised a brow at his brother as Frederick examined his realigned visor.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he admitted, rolling his shoulders. Fred offered him a subtle grin.

"Come on now, you aren't touchy like that. Why the sudden contact with little miss firey?" the darker haired man prodded. John merely grunted in response. Frederick had gotten boisterous by Spartan standards in John's absence. Sure he was a lieutenant now, and he'd had to adapt to more sociable tendencies to compensate, but John felt that he came off to strongly as of late. It had yet to prove detrimental to missions, and therefore the Master Chief held his tongue on the matter.

"I was doing my job." he said, leaving no room for argument.

"I never said you had to justify it Chief. I'm just curious." Fred pointed out, his attitude sobering slightly.

"I'm well aware that you're curious about Catherine. Leave her be. She's trying to focus on not screwing things up, don't make it harder for her." It wasn't an order, but it wasn't a suggestion either.

"I'm not trying to make things harder for her. I'm trying to loosen the tension. I don't have ulterior motives there." Frederick assured him.

"But you're pinning for things to take that turn anyhow." the Chief pointedly accused. There was a moment of silence between the Spartans as John's eyes flicked over the data screen hooked up to his suit. Everything appeared in working order.

"I'll be straightforward with you John. She's attractive. A little off the wall, but still interesting" Interesting was an understatement for what Catherine was. Enigma was a more accurate term in John's opinion. "If it turns out that she's equally as interested, I'd like to be able to count on you respecting that. However, if my….opposing assumptions are correct, you would have the same level of understanding in return." The Master Chief paused.

"What?" Either he was misunderstanding Fred drastically or he had just insinuated something.

"You heard me loud and clear." Fred said with a shrug, placing his helmet on his head, satisfied with it's repairs.

"I'm not following." he interjected as the teal colored Spartan waltzed towards the door.

"I don't think she dislikes you as much as she lets on." the lieutenant hinted, pausing briefly in the doorway to the tech labs. John's eyes narrowed ever so slightly.

"I don't think she _dislikes_ any of us. I think she doesn't trust us. That's a good thing , for now. I'd be worried if she was one to warm up to strangers right away." On the other hand however, John had a feeling that she wouldn't be warming up to them as quickly as they'd prefer. She'd proven to be smart with her caution, but he couldn't afford to have a rift between any his team members, and he needed her to find a slot to fit into on Blue Team as possible. While it felt almost wrong to open up the small family of sorts they had to an outsider, it was the most beneficial course of action. Fred chuckled at his response.

"Sure thing Chief."

Blue Team was suited up within the hour, and loading a pelican for their mission. Catherine's suit was lightly armored compared to the bulk of the Spartan's metal clad bodies, and she was more or less depending on the stamina of her shields. The Master Chief wasn't particularly fond of her accommodations, and made a mental note to look into changing them. He didn't need her suffering any serious damage. Kelly had already taken the pilot seat, and John co-pilot. Catherine climbed the ships ramp, took a seat, and strapped herself in. Once they'd been cleared for takeoff, Linda handed Cat a small black device, roughly the size of a chili bean.

"Put that in your ear." she said simply. Catherine brushed her hair back from her ear and placed it inside. 'A COM link...cool.' she thought just before the Chief's voice buzzed in.

"We land in twenty minutes. Make sure you're ready." Catherine took a deep breath as she always did before going into battle, centering herself and pushing distracting thoughts from her mind. She had other people in the field with her now, which meant a little less elbow room. She had a magnum pistol on her hip, and an array of blades strapped to her suit in various places. Linda had a similar loadout, but rather than a pistol, she had a sniper rifle on her back. Although Catherine wouldn't have been surprised if she had more ammunition hidden somewhere on her person. Frederick had a magnum, a shotgun, and a knife the length of Catherine's forearm strapped to his waist. She couldn't see Linda or Kelly, but she had a feeling they were also armed to the teeth. Weapons were a language to Catherine, one that she spoke fluently. Linda was obviously a sniper, but Frederick likely preferred close combat. Catherine preferred close combat herself, seeing as she was more of a martial artist than a gunman, but she was flexible when it came to battle.

Kelly landed the pelican three clicks from the base, and Catherine couldn't help but think they had landed a bit _too_ close. They must have been more pressed for time than she realized. Linda set up her sniping perch halfway between the base and the pelican, scoping out just how heavily guarded it was before they went rushing into battle. The base sat in a canyon of sorts, leaving it vulnerable to the Spartan's position from above. "Seems like a skeleton crew. Won't be much resistance from the outside. Heat scanners are picking up more inside though." she reported.

"Cat and I will take the back then." Kelly's heavily accented tone responded. "If you two can keep them busy up front, we can slip in quicker." she said, earning a nod of approval from the Chief as Frederick went about securing four lines to carry them down into the canyon.

"Where exactly are we supposed to find out 'off switch'?" Catherine asked, hooking her belt to a line.

"Kelly's HUD will tap into the schematics once your inside. Keep your COMs open with each other, but try not to make too much chatter. We don't want them picking anything up on their systems. If they figure out why were here, we lose time we don't have." The Chief explained. The redhead looked to Kelly, you regarded her with a nod. A subtle way of saying she had her back. The team lowered themselves slowly into the canyon, disconnecting their tethers as soon as their feet hit the ground.

Kelly and Catherine split off from their team members and quickly made their way to the back of the structure. Moving behind larger rocks and stacked supply crates in order to go unnoticed. Kelly peaked beyond the cover and huffed softly. "We have a problem." she muttered. Curiously, Catherine took a look as well.

"Hunters." she confirmed. She reached for the largest knife on her belt. "You Spartans are fast, right?" she asked, watching their rotation, memorizing it, and filing it away. Kelly nodded.

"Think you can keep one distracted for me?" she questioned.

"One, yes. But what about the other?" the blue Spartan asked. She could sense a plan being formed.

"We have a sniper, if she can keep them confused long enough to get me behind one of them, I can level the playing field down a little. Two against one is better than two against two." she explained.

"You copy that Linda?" Kelly asked, eyes still locked on the hunters."

"Loud and clear." A shot rang out, and one of the creatures gave out an undignified roar.

"Go!" Catherine darted left, while Kelly went right, firing at the hunter closest to her. It followed immediately, and Linda switched firing between the two hunters as they took off in opposite directions. It wasn't an easy task to keep up with them, but hunters were slower than other covenant races, making the task barely achievable. The hunters quickly became confused, as the targets they were charging were not shooting them, but they were still under fire.

Catherine took the moment of hesitation to pull a small throwing knife from her belt with the hand unoccupied by the larger one, and threw it into the creatures eye, before taking off in the direction of the large boulders she had hid behind moments ago. The hunter roared, and charged after her, pulling the large cannon off it's back and aiming it towards her. Catherine used her running start to jump high enough to that she had the required leverage to push herself backwards towards the hunter, flipping above its head, just after it fired upon the large rock, blowing it into a number of pieces. Once Catherine had cleared the alien's height, and was on the gravity ride back to the ground, she clutched the her knife with both hands and shoved it between the hunter's shoulders. It snagged for a moment in the creatures flesh, before sliding down its body as Catherine pulled the handle with her towards the ground. She landed on her rear, and quickly rolled away from the creature as it fell to the ground, innards spilling out it's back.

"Lovely." the redhead muttered, wiping green blood off her knife against her leg armor, before re-sheathing it. She looked over at Kelly who was dodging blasts from the other hunter's cannon, while both she and Linda returned fire. Spartans really did move fast. She pulled out her pistol and fired a few bursts, until the second hunter finally hit the ground from the triple level of fire.

"Now that that's out of the way-" Catherine began, brushing imaginary dirt off her shoulder with a smirk. "How do we get inside?"

"Look for a terminal, there's bound to be one out here somewhere." Kelly said.

"Guard rotation changes every five minutes. Once the replacements come out, you'll have roughly two minutes to get inside before the door closes again." Linda said, having already watched the rotation structure.

"When were you gonna let us in on that little secret?" Catherine said, holstering her pistol.

"Just now." Catherine looked towards the top of the canyon, looking for the armor clad Spartan, but she was nowhere in sight. Good. She just hoped the covies didn't pick up her heat signatures on their scanners. "Doors opening in ten." the sniper reported. Four Elites poured out of the open door as it lifted from the floor. Two minutes. That was all they had. Linda was quick to take out the front most elite, while Catherine and Kelly moved back to take cover. Catherine clocked them at a minute twenty when the second alien fell. Kelly was quick to leave cover in order to engage in close combat with one of the remaining Elites, while Catherine challenged the other. The alien pulled out the handle of an energy sword, igniting with a growl.

'I want one of those.' Catherine briefly thought as she ducked under a swipe for her neck. She pulled her own machete from her back, dodged another attack from the Sangheili, and lunged for it's side.

"Catherine!" Kelly called as the door began to close again. The redhead took a running start towards it, Kelly beating her inside and looking for a terminal to keep the door open. She wasn't going to make it. The redhead through herself to the ground and slid inside, making it in only seconds after the door closed. A relieved sigh left her lips as she lay on her back, and Kelly offered her a hand up. Catherine attempted to sit up and take it, but felt herself being pulled back towards the floor. Her hair had come out of the tight braid it had previously been in, and was now stuck underneath the heavy door.

"There are regulations for a reason you know." Kelly said in amusement, pulling a knife from Catherine's belt.

"Just cut it off, I don't need a reprimand mother." the redhead shot back. When the pressure from behind her head was finally released, she allowed Kelly to pull her to her feet. "Let's not have anymore close calls, where to?" she asked.

"Tapping into their systems now." Kelly said. "Chief, we're inside." the Spartan reported.

"Don't be long, we're under heavy fire out here."

"Copy that, Cat, Control room is a few levels up, take a look around and see what you can find. I'll the bridge for anything."

"What exactly are we looking for, a big red sign that says 'bomb control here'?" she asked.

"I think the covenant is a little more subtle than that." A joke. That had been an actual joke. Catherine snorted softly. She was beginning to like Kelly, maybe a little more than the others.


	5. Not-So-Cival Encounters

**Chapter 5**

Catherine stepped onto the circular lift, and waited impatiently for it to carry her up. She felt herself tensing from the stress of the impending possibility of her friend not making it home from his own mission. Her foot tapped idly as the machinery thrummed around her. As soon as it was no longer in motion, she sped off in the direction of the control room, keeping to the shadows as much as physically possible. "Everything is clear out front, how are things inside?" The Chief's voice came over the COM system, and Catherine felt her nerves relax slightly.

"No resistance just yet, but I haven't found anything useful either." Kelly checked in.

"I'm almost to the control room, I'll give you an update as soon as I get there." Cat cut in. She picked up her pace a little, trying to reach her destination just a little faster.

"Cat, you have a lot of heat signatures heading your way. You need to reroute yourself or you're going to find yourself in a head on collision with a herd of Jackals." Kelly informed the redhead.

"We don't have time for that. I'll figure something out." she decided. She was nearing a corner, and she could hear the oncoming party. She paused just long enough to asses her surrounding before making a decision. The halls before her were bare, but above her, there were evenly spaced beams, looking just sturdy enough to hold her up. She took a running start, jumped, and hopped between the narrow walls until she was high enough to grab onto one beam and swing herself up.

"Cat, they're closing in on your position." Kelly warned. As far as her scanners could tell, Catherine was in the same spot she'd been in for the past few minutes, and the oncoming party was headed straight for her.

"I've got a plan, don't worry." she said in a hushed manner.

"Negative, get out of there Catherine, that's in order."

"She doesn't have time to get out! They're approaching now!" Kelly was already dashing for the elevator, intent on getting there before things got ugly. John stiffened at the news. He had no way of getting inside the structure, and Kelly was the only support close enough. But then the brunette Spartan paused in her approach to the elevator when the heat signatures seemingly passed over Catherine's. "Did they just...pass you?" she asked in disbelief.

"Technically they went below me." the redhead's voice cut in." and the entire team seemed to sigh in relief.

"Where are you?" John asked in slight confusion.

"The ceiling." she answered. If Catherine didn't know any better, she'd say he was actually worried about her.

"How the heck did you get up there?" Frederick asked. Catherine snorted at the sound of disbelief in his voice.

"A lot of gymnastics training." she answered with a laugh as she untangled herself and dropped back down the the floor, moving towards the control room. Upon entering the the room full of alien technology, Catherine noted the many schematics laid out on the screens before her. Her translation skills were rough to say the least, but she understood images _very_ well.

"Guys, we've got some problems." she spoke up.

"What kind of problems are we talking about?" The Chief asked, he and Frederick had begun to move towards Linda's position.

"Well, first off I have maybe two minutes to turn this thing off, or tht dispatch team is gonna be blown sky high, second off, the kill switch is just that. I turn it off, and the bottom level of the base blows up." she explained.

"Then we evacuate and blow the base from outside." John ordered. Catherine's eyes settled on the timer before her. Horace didn't have that much time left.

"I'm already at the back exit, I'll regroup with you at the pelican." Kelly said.

"Copy that. Cat, what's your status?" the Chief asked. There was silence over the COMs and John had a feeling it didn't bode well. The redhead bit her lip as her hand hovered over the kill switch. This had been a trap. Either way, the covenant meant to cause casualties.

"We don't have time for an airstrike." she said, watching as the time dwindled. John realized what she was planning to late.

"Catherine don't you dare-" there was an explosion in the lower level of the building, and COMs screeched in response.

Catherine had broken out in a sprint towards the lift as soon as she hit the kill switch, there was an explosion from below, and it caused her to stumble. The clock was against her, and she needed to get to the roof if she didn't want to be crushed. Her legs burned from the sudden burst of speed, and she more or less fell into the elevator. She made it to her knees and stumbled to her feet, running up the last ramp and onto the roof as the second level collapsed. She looked around in search of way off the base that didn't involve using the now non existent bottom level, only for the second one to follow suit of the first. The redhead was knocked off her feet, her head connecting with something hard below her before her world went black. And it stayed that way for a while. In the dark depths of unconsciousness, she could have sworn she felt herself being lifted from the stuffy wreckage around her. "Catherine?" she could have sworn she heard her name.

"Catherine, can you hear me?" she forced her eyes open to see the outline of four heads, but she couldn't distinguish the faces that went with them as the bright, white light behind them blinded her. She briefly registered the feeling of an IV in her arm.

"Where am I?" she croaked, forcing her eyes to focus. The first thing she registered was green. Army green. "Chief?" she asked hoarsely. Her vision swam in and out until she could finally make out the icy blue of his eyes. Catherine felt ready to puke and pass out again, but she forced herself to stay lucid.

"Take it easy Cat, we almost lost you back there."Frederick warned when she tried to sit up.

"Speaking of there, where is here?" she asked, running a hand through her now much shorter hair. It fell in a close cropped manner, uneven and sticking out in different directions.

"Infinity's med-bay. You've been out for a couple of hours." John answered.

"Long enough for us to give mission reports to be exact." Kelly added. It was then that she took in the comical sight of four Spartans packed into the small medical room, barely able to fit inside together. But they had all felt the need to be there when she woke up. Catherine didn't know what to do with that information. The events of the mission came flooding back to her, and the redhead gulped. She didn't know what the outcome had been concerning their mission, having lost consciousness before it was deemed successful.

"Did..did I shut off the bomb? Did the ODST's make it out alright?" she asked, fearing the answer. John nodded, and she let out a relieved sigh.

"Don't worry Cat, Horace is just fine." The familiarity of the voice startled Catherine. There in the doorway, leaning smugly against it, was her presence was somewhat unexpected, it was a pleasant surprise.

"Cass?" she asked in bafflement at the ODST's appearance.

"You know this person?" John asked warily. He'd seen her hanging around the halls, looking in on their room every once in a while. He'd thought her to be another nosy marine, and had considered telling her to clear off more than once. He supposed it was a good think he hadn't. The helljumpers eyes settled on him, and narrowed ever so slightly. John had a feeling she already knew who he was, and she wasn't a fan apparently.

"Play nice Cass." Catherine only half teased, knowing full well the dark haired woman wasn't fond of her new commander. "Cassandra was my bunkmate back on base, ya know, when you ran me off the road." the redhead added a little smugly as she sat up in her cot. John shot her a warning glare, and Kelly raised an amused eyebrow at the withheld information. Cassandra continued to glower at him, and John raised a brow challengingly, as if daring her to say what was on her mind.

"You know, I almost wonder if you ran her off the road on purpose." she mused, falsely lightening the tone of her voice, as if she were pondering the idea and hadn't already mentally accused him of such.

"You told her about that?" he asked, turning to look at Catherine in mild offense.

"You saw the state I was, how were you _expecting_ me to explain that?" she said pointedly. John had to physically control himself to keep from rolling his eyes. "Speaking of which, what are you doing here anyways? I didn't know you were stationed here?" Cassandra shrugged.

"Last minute decision. Love it when the board does that." she explained sarcastically, and Catherine chuckled. "Technically I should be On the third deck helping with supply distribution, but when I went to see Horace on my break he said you were in the infirmary, I figured I'd stop by." John could have pinpointed the moment something seemed to connect in the redheads brain, her brow dipping and jaw going slack.

"Wait a moment, I didn't know you were in Horace's squad." Catherine said in a manner that suggested she had suspictions.

"I'm not, we've been together a few years now actually, met back on Harvest during my second tour." she said with a grin. Catherine let out a indignant laugh.

"Well heck, how am I supposed to wrap my head around that." she muttered, drawing a laugh out of the other woman. It was then that Catherine realized that the rest of her team was rather quiet. They had seemingly shifted to one side of the room, as if secluding themselves. Spartans, antisocial, right.

"Wel, now that I know everything's alright, I had better get back upstairs before anyone realizes I'm gone." Cassandra said with a sigh, patting the shorter girl's head. "Take care Kitty-Cat." she said, trying her best to annoy the other woman, before sauntering out of the room.

"You have some interesting friends." Kelly offered in amusement. Catherine shrugged, well aware she attracted odd friends.

"So, what's the next order of business?" she asked, attempting to escape from the confines of her cot.

"For you? Bedrest. You're not going anywhere." The Chief cut in. Catherine groaned.

Catherine didn't like the med-bay. The food was horrible, it smelled like cleaning chemicals, and it was eerily quiet. Never one to follow orders, Catherine found herself unable to obey the orders she'd been given and stay put. She'd snuck to her dorm, hoping not to run into her commander, or any of the Spartans for that matter. She had yet to be assigned any bunkmates, and so she had the entire room to herself. Her duffle was still unpacked on one of the spare beds, and the room's appliances were completely unused, seeing as she hadn't had much time to really make much use of the place. There was a small dresser, on one wall, and her first order of business was to empty her clothes inside, before placing her odds and ends atop the shelf. Underneath the dresser drawers was a rack that was likely meant for shoes, but the redhead repurposed it for her sketchbooks and journals.

"Now things are looking almost normal." she muttered. She'd likely personalize the space as time went on, but for now, this would do. She had a habit of picking up magazines and scraps, pulling her favorite images out, and taping them to the wall to add splashes of color. There was one wall in the dorm that had a blaringly blank space present, and as far as Catherine was concerned, that needed to change. Pulling her paints from the bottom of her duffle, the short woman grinned like a giddy child. She paused beside the little circular object on her nightstand, before pressing the green button once, and waiting a moment or two.

"You're supposed to be resting." the familiar little green figure spoke, tapping her foot in mock irritation.

"One could argue that I am resting, now how do I get some therapeutic music going? For resting purposes of course." she said, an impish grin on her face. Philicity shook her head at her with mirth.

"I can provide a multitude of genres, so be specific." the AI replied in a quipped tone.

"Something classical. Beethoven or something. The good stuff."

John's thumb brushed gently over the tattered chip in his hands. It didn't work anymore, now devoid of what it once held. What Catherine had done just hours ago replayed in his head over and over again, like a broken record. She had been prepared to sacrifice herself if the need arose. She'd been prepared to do what Cortana already had. Every loss since Cortana died had hurt more than it used to, and if he had lost Catherine so early on, he'd have blamed himself entirely. Catherine had that fire that the AI had possessed, that same drive to do good, and it made the close call even closer to home than he'd have liked. Unknown to the redhead, her actions had been the catalyst for her claiming a personal slot for herself among the team. A sudden hurried knock on his door drew the chief out of his thoughts, and upon his command the door opened. On the other side stood Kelly, the tilt of her brow and frown on her lips foreboding.

"Catherine is gone." she said. The vague information had John blinking in confusion.

"What?" he asked, urging for more explanation.

"I went to the med-bay to see how she was feeling, she wasn't there, the doctors had no idea where she'd gone, and nobody had heard from her. She just..disappeared." John rubbed a hand over his face, groaning softly. A small voice in his head told him he should have seen it coming.

"I'm sure she'll show up somewhere soon, but on the chance that something is wrong, ask Lasky to check the camera's for her. I'll check her room, if she's there I'll have a talk with her." he muttered. His armor clanked softly as he made his way toward her dorm, steps slightly angry. He had thought they had come to an unspoken agreement about her behavior, but clearly she wasn't done acting out just yet. He knocked on her door once, then twice. At first he was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt that she wasn't there, but upon quieting long enough to listen, he could hear something from the other side of the door. The Master Chief grit his teeth and knocked louder. There was no response. "Catherine. Open up. Now."

The noise from the other side of the door stopped, but the door didn't open. She was going to have so many pushups on her plate when he got ahold of her. Maybe squats to. The Spartan decided in that moment that The next gym session blue team had was going to be as unpleasant as he could make it, specifically for the redhead. In a moment of rashness, John gripped the emergency door handle and roughly yanked, forcing the door into its slot in the wall with a screech that promised the mechanisms had been broken. He winced, not having meant to be quite that overboard. And inside stood Catherine, a paintbrush of all things in her hand as she stood in front of a section of the bulkhead covered in a design that closely resembled the constellations that surrounded Earth.

"Did..Did you just break my door!" she shouted in mild horror. John looked to the scrunched piece of metal, and back to her.

"You disobeyed orders." he said blatantly. She gaped at him in disbelief.

"That doesn't warrant you-"

"I feel no remorse." he interrupted flatly, glaring at her. She sputtered, setting her brush down and approaching him with and agitated quirk to her lips.

John raised a brow at her as she approached him, unamused with how this small, undaunting figure approached him menacingly, as if she were the stuff of his nightmares, prepared to make him regret his decision to anger her. It would have been laughable if John himself wasn't already agitated with her, but instead it merely added to his annoyance.

"What the heck is wrong with you! Do you have no sense of privacy?"

"Do you have no sense period?" he retaliated, causing her to recoil in surprise. "You had orders to stay put. That way I knew where you were and what you were doing _without _you having to report to me. _This-" _he said guesterig to her door- "Wouldn't have happened if you stayed where I told you to. Where the _doctor_ told you to." he added more pointedly. Her face was bright red now, completely infuriated with his response.

"What does he know! It's my body, if I couldn't handle being up and moving I wouldn't be!" she shouted. John had to resist the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. Part of him was tempted to order her to lower her voice, but that would likely have the reverse effect.

"It doesn't matter, you're either ready to get back on duty or you're in recovery, there's no in between. There's protocol for this." he stated firmly. Her anger faltered suddenly, as her brow dipped in confusion. John's frustration turns to surprise as realization dawned on him. "You...you don't know... How can you not…" he trailed off, pausing as the tension in the room seemed to diminish. Catherine stood before him, tapping her foot expectantly.

"know what." she ground out between grit teeth.

"They _never_ taught you basic recovery protocol?" he asked in mild disbelief. His voice was so flat, that had he been donning his helmet, not showing his face to her, she'd never have caught the confusion. She blinked in surprise.

"You really don't get it, do you." she muttered. "Until now, I've reported solely to ONI. Yeah I work for the UNSC, but until recent, I was being _rented_ to the military. The only reason I'm not still their property is Dr. Halsey's unexpected arrest." Well, maybe it hadn't been _that_ unexpected. John's mind nearly blanked. She had no training. No experience working under authority. All she went by was what she had picked up in the field, and from other marines. He was in deeper than he had originally suspected. The Spartan took a deep breath, forcing himself not to lose his temper.

"From now on, you can't disobey recovery orders. They may not be _field_ orders, but they're orders."

"But I don't like the med-ba-"

"It's the rules." he interrupted. "You have to follow those now. You're not ONI and military anymore." he stated. She was completely silent now, a stark difference to her attitude moments ago. It was clear as day on her face that the realization that she had done something _wrong_ just hit her.

"Oh." it was spoken softly, a resignation almost. There was no apology, but she was at least willing to come to terms with the fact that he was right. "Are you gonna fix my door?" she mumbled. The Chief had almost felt a little smug at the small victory, but it was quickly replaced with mild annoyance with himself.

"I didn't mean to do that." he admitted. "That was my bad." she looked at him with an unreadable expression, biting her lip.

"But I still need a door…" she trailed off. He was prepared to assure her someone would fix it for her when he noticed the large, orange sunset painted on her wall. He stared at for a moment, mouth open as he'd been about answer her, and internally sighed in exasperation. He chose not to comment.

"I'll take care of it. For now you can bunk with Linda and Kelly." he decided, leaving no room for argument. Her nose scrunched sightly, as it usually did when she was displeased. Sharing a bunk meant spending more time than necessary with people she wasn't familiar with, but she didn't seem to have much option at this point.

'Blue Team lesson one: not all consequences are officiated punishments.'

It irked Catherine to have to repack all the items she had just finished distributing about her dorm, leaving her murrel unfinished and at the mercy of whatever maintenance crew came to fix her door, and move them to what Lasky had referred to as 'Spartan Town'. She'd thought the name was stupid at first, until actually approaching the wing of the ship set aside for the Spartan's living quarters. Everything was huge. The Bathrooms, the doors, the people too for that matter. She wasn't familiar with a single face here. A few Spartan IVs gave her odd looks, clearly curious as to why a shortie like her was present. She continuously reminded herself that this was not a permanent change.

The halls here were wider, and it made it all the more easy for the redhead to avoid people, but it still wasn't entirely possible to escape interaction.

"Excuse me." Catherine paused to look up at the figure approaching her. "Are you lost?" he asked, a little wary of her presence.

"Uh, no." she answered, a little defensive at the way this random man seemed bothered by her presence. He considered her for a moment, the expression he wore reminiscent of 'You're too short to be here.' Like a lion coming home to find an unexpected creature of lesser stature in it's den.

"If you say so. I'm Thorne, by the way." he corrected quickly. "Sorry for the rude welcome, I just don't see many marines this end of the ship. Can I help you get settled in?" he asked, trying to reverse the cold front he'd originally presented her with. Catherine wasn't sure if it was the lack of fear present in her posture, or the offended manner in which she regarded him, but he seemed embarrassed with himself.

"That's alright. I'm not staying long, I'll be out of 'Spartan Town' in a few days. Don't let me hog up too much space." she said with a dry grin. Thorne laughed softly.

"Might be hard, we're short on breathing room." he joked, shaking his head. "I didn't catch your name." he added almost as an afterthought.

"I didn't throw it, maybe if I get a warmer welcome next time I'll consider it." she said, playful smile on her lips. The Spartan before her snorted. Alright, so all the Spartans weren't stiff brickheads. Just the IIs apparently.

"Oh yeah? What am I supposed to call you if I see you're around then?" he asked as she started down the hall again. She shrugged giving him a smirk as she walked backwards, narrowly missing another Spartan that shot her a glare, before turning around. Catherine had a bad habit of making friends. Most people would consider it a good talent, but those people neglected to take in her anti-social preferences. And therefore she had many acquaintances like the Spartan who had called himself Thorne.

Linda and Kelly's dorm was empty when she arrived, and the redhead considered herself lucky. She didn't like walking directly into confrontations. She preferd not to have that awkward greeting tension focused on her. She tried to arrive first when bunking, immerse herself in a project, and indifferently recognize the presence of others as they arrived, rather than fidget and be conscientious of every moment she made when all the attention was on her. _Normal_ people called that anxiety apparently. Maybe even overthinking. She called it tactical socialization.

However, when the Spartans did arrive, they barely even regarded her. Kelly, who she came to find out was a blue eyed brunette with high cheekbones, had entered, taken a moment to regard her on the bed opposite hers as she drew in her sketchbook, then plopped down on her own bed to read something on her dat-pad. Linda entered soon after, took a seat on the grey rug laid out on the floor, and began what Catherine could only assume was a meditation session. Neither of them were boisterous, and yet Cat still felt herself quietly melting into the background.

The redhead took the opportunity to observe both women. She chose Linda first, analyzing the auburn haired woman who she had identified by default. She had carrot orange hair, a shade that sat at the opposite red headed spectrum of her own hair, and hazel eyes that hid behind her closed lids. Her features were sharper than Kelly's, and her stature long and thin, whereas Kelly was shorter but slightly thicker in the way of muscle.

Catherine carefully began to copy down the information as she registered it until a picture formed on the paper. "Does drawing help you control it, or does it help your drawing?" the sound of Linda's voice drew a jump from her, and Catherine had to remind herself to breath. She hadn't even opened her eyes to speak to her, and she felt as if she should wait for confirmation that she was the one being spoken to in the first place, despite how obviously aimed the question had been. "I can feel you staring." Catherine tapped her pencil idly.

"Both. Neither. I've never really viewed analysis and my art as much of a pair." she admitted. Kelly side eyed her, ever so curious. "I like to paint, but I'm not as good at it." She offered, only to want to smack herself. The information had not been requested and was therefore unnecessary.

"Interesting." Linda said nothing else, and Catherine shut her book awkwardly, feeling as if she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't have been. With a huff, the brunette stowed away her tablet.

"What do you like to read?" she asked. Catherine stared at her for a moment, unsure of how she was supposed to answer.

"Classics." she answered, unsure of the purpose behind the question. Kelly deflated ever so slightly, and Catherine realized it hadn't been the correct answer. She needed to ask a question if she didn't want this to become a full on interrogation.

"Do Fred and the Chief bunk together too?" she asked dumbly. Of all the things to say…

"Fred bunks by himself, but sometimes Spartan IVs are assigned to the ship for a short amount of time and room with him. His bunkmates are constantly changing." Linda explained.

"John has his own officer's quarters." Kelly supplied.

'Ah, of course he does.' she thought.

"Though the four of us bunk together on occasion." Linda said, furthering the topic. It appeared they too were grasping at straws for conversations. There was an awkward silence among the group for a moment before Kelly decided to speak up on a topic that had been concerning her.

"You could have died out there, you know that, right?" Catherine nodded, unsure of what she was meant to say. "As admirable as that was, do us a favor and don't do it again. We've lost enough teammates, we don't need anymore casualties." Catherine couldn't help but narrow her eyes slightly.

"People could have died if I hadn't." she pointed out.

"And you could have taken their place." Kelly countered.

"I think that's my decision to make." Linda opened her eyes to observe the fued, and realized she would need to defuse it before things went haywire.

"Or worse, you'd risk John having to carry you to the med-bay again. Frederick would be highly entertained." Catherine paled slightly at the mention of the two Spartans, and Kelly's lips quirked in confusion.

"What?" she questioned. "What does that have to do with anything." Catherine groaned.

"Fred is determined to make joke out of the Chief and I." she admitted before a misunderstanding could be made. Kelly frowned softly.

"He wouldn't dare, not after what happened to Cortana-" Kelly cut herself off, eyes widening as if she just realized she had said more than she meant to. Catherine almost asked, but she had a feeling she wasn't meant to know.

"Not in front of John, no. But it's not below him to tease outside his presence." Linda drawled. "Isn't that right Catherine?" Linda asked in mild amusement. The redhead huffed in response. Kelly however continued to frown. She knew Frederick, and she knew when he was playing games. His interest in the redhead was...worrisome. Not because she suspected he'd cause Catherine any trouble, but she was unsure of John's stance on the topic of the Spartans personal relations, and she didn't want Catherine to end up the catalyst for a rift in the team.

"I think he knows the Chief wouldn't let it slide. He doesn't seem to be one for jokes." Catherine mumbled.

"You can call him John you know. We're your team, there's no need to alienate yourself." Kelly corrected. Catherine shrugged. In truth, it was easier for her to call him by a nickname than directly address him. Then again, that was an experience she had with a lot of people. She opted not to respond, suspecting Kelly would see through her if she attempted to lie and say she'd change the behavior.

Finishing her meditation, she got herself off the floor and stretched her arms above her head. "How are your injuries?" she inquired, her gaze traveling to Catherine. The redhead was somewhat surprised with the unwarranted concern.

"Fine. No concussions or broken bones, just a lot of bruising. Worst case scenario I'll be sore for a few days." Linda nodded in affirmation.

"You should rest then, I can't say when we'll have another assignment, but it'd be best to stock up on rest when you can from now on."

Catherine wasn't sure how late in the morning it was when she awoke. It was hard to determine such a think when there was no sunshine outside her window or sounds of the city she'd grown accustomed waking up to as a child. It was late though, that she was sure of. It took her a moment to understand where she was. Once awake enough to at least solve that mystery, she noticed that the Spartans had disappeared. Judging by the hour, it was likely time for breakfast, so it was safe to assume they were in the mess. Catherine crawled out of bed, stuck her feet in her shoes, and yawned loudly, mouth opening wide before she smacked her lips. Some food would be a good way to start her day, and she doubted Kelly or Linda kept any supplies around for cooking in the small kitchenette, so it seemed she'd be joining them assuming that they were still there.

The walk through Spartan Town was quiet, though few people did linger around the bathroom, chatting with their friends or teammates as they went about their morning routines. A few people took notice of her and her pajamas, which weren't even very eye catching in her opinion, but most ignored her presence. She could hear the chatter from the mess as she approached it, and felt slight agitation upon entering to find it considerably packed. Once she had her tray, she began the complicated task of finding herself a seat. She didn't see Linda or Kelly, and wondered if they were even still there. However, as soon as her eyes settled on the most secluded corner of the room, she found the four Spartans, seated around a table with one free seat left.

"Look who finally made it out of bed, or should I say almost made it out of bed." frederick teased as she took a seat. Catherine rolled her eyes and gave him an exasperated look

"Hey Fred, you hear that?" she asked a little sarcastically. He paused for a moment to listen and blinked in confusion.

"Uh, no." he answered.

"It's the sweet sound of comfort, and you probably can't hear it through all that stuffy armor." she fired, and Kelly nearly choked on the liquid in her cup, barely concealing it.

"Alright pajama pants, I'll give you that one." he said in amusement, tipping his fork in her direction. Catherine shook her head, before her eyes settled on the quietest figure at the table. He didn't make a sound as he ate, and Catherine found it disgruntling. Kelly and Linda were divulged in their own hushed conversation, and Frederick was scrolling through something on a datapad as he ate, likely a mission report if Catherine's suspicions were correct.

"Seep well?" the question surprised her slightly, and she looked back to Spartan sitting directly in front of her. The Chief, unlike Fred, was dressed in a pair of tan scrubs. There were smudges of dirt and grime here and there, and Catherine suspected he'd spent the morning cleaning firearms.

"I guess." she waited for him to pull his gaze away from his food, but he didn't, and she supposed the question hadn't been a conversation starter. Her eyes settled on his hands, large in comparison to the small fork he held. There were odd surgical scars that began at his wrist and spanned out across his hand, stopping halfway down his finger. Her eyes followed the motion of his hand as it traveled towards his mouth, still mapping out the scars and what lay below the skin that had likely been altered. His mouth came into view and Catherine's eyes flicked upwards, only for her breath to catch in a wheeze at the sight of his icy blue eyes boring into her. He'd caught her staring. He raised a brow curiously at her, and she found herself stiffening under the intensity of his gaze.

"Sleep enough?" he asked dryly, and she looked away quickly, folding her hands in her lap and looking virtually anywhere else.

"Apparently not." she grumbled. He watched her a moment longer before returning to his meal. He probably thought she was stupid, or mentally challenged in some way. At least that was what she suspected. However, unbeknown to her, he was more wary with her curiosity, and where her attention had been focused. People stared all the time, usually in awe of what they were seeing. Catherine on the other hand, almost seemed to understand what she was looking at, as if it made sense to her. It unnerved him just slightly. Why it agitated him, he couldn't quite pinpoint. Maybe it was a sense of invaded privacy, or even a dislike for the idea of her judgement and assumptions. Or maybe he simply didn't like the fact that he didn't know what she was thinking. Such things usually never bothered him, but Catherine was something he had yet to fully understand, and if nothing else about her irked him, that alone did the trick.

"I heard someone snuck out of the med-bay and caused a ruckus recently. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that,hmm Kitty-Cat?" Frederick asked, placing his data pad on the table.

"Calling names isn't going to get you any information Frederick dear." Catherine muttered, slowly starting on her meal. John gave the teal spartan a curious look, and the words from their conversation the previous day rang in his head. Did he mind that Fred had a mild interest where Cat was concerned? Not particularly. But, he felt an obligation on the apparently unsociable marine's behalf not to let him pester her too much. However, feeling particularly annoyed with the woman across from him as of late, he decided not to intervene.

"Oh come on now, it fits you." he argued, and Catherine's face scrunched in offense.

"No, it really doesn't." she insisted in a deadpan manner.

"Yeah it does." Frederic argued. "You're a Catherine, so Cat for short, which you very much are, and small cats are Kittens, but that obviously sounds weird, thus Kitty-Cat fits you perfectly." he explained. John honestly wanted to smirk at the way her jaw hung open at the explanation. "It's cute, like you." The redhead grimaced.

"No. Just...no." she decided. Linda and Kelly having paused their conversation to indulge in the banter before them, gave each other knowing looks.

"Endearing." The occupants of the table momentarily faltered at the unexpected interjection. "Cute doesn't leave room for how infuriating she can be. Endearing can be paired much more easily with insufferable." No one had been expecting the comment to come from the Chief, and he felt a sense of satisfaction at the way she reddened in embarrassment.

"You know, if we're playing the word game, I have a few choice ones to describe you-"

"Anyhow." Kelly sharply cut off the redhead's dry comment, shooting both male Spartans a look of reprimand, not that she herself was in any position to scold either of them. "I suggest you head to the med-bay as soon as your finished with breakfast. There's talk of another mission, and you'll need to be cleared for combat first." Catherine shrugged.

"Fine by me. Not like they're going to find much damage anyhow, I have a thick skull." she bragged. John supposed he was _well_ aware of that fact.


	6. Almost Acceptable Behavior

**Chapter 6**

"Are you sure you're up for another mission already?" Catherine looked up from her sketchbook as Frederick spoke. John had called a team meeting on the upper deck in the screening room, and Catherine had simply gone straight there, knowing better than to try getting away with another time crunch. She and the teal Spartan were the only ones present thus far.

"If I wasn't ready, I wouldn't be here." she said, tapping her pencil on the page flippantly. "Besides, I wasn't beat up that badly anyhow." she added. Frederick's face went grim and she briefly felt a ripple of ice travel down her spine.

"We had to dig you out of the rubble. John thought you were dead when he found you. None of us wanted to see that." he explained roughly, causing her to flinch.

"Oh. Sorry." she said, dipping her head as she returned her attention to her sketchbook. Frederick grit his teeth. His own concern didn't seem to phase her, but the Chief's did, and if that was what he needed to use to drive the point home then he'd use it without hesitation.

"You really got him upset you know." Fred continued. Catherine sighed, putting her sketchbook away, giving him her full attention.

"Well it's not my fault that I'm a _soldier_, I did what's expected of me." she defended. Little did she know such wasn't the case. Blue Team, to be completely honest, had gown into this deal expecting very little from her.

"You're Cortana all over again." the Spartan mumbled softly under his breath, and Catherine's brow dipped.

"Who's Cortana, and why is she such a touche topic?" Catherine asked. If anyone would be willing to share tenacious information, it would be Fred. The Spartan bit his lip, not having expected her to show any curiosity in the subject.

"She's dead. She and John were partners for while Blue Team was MIA. They were close." he explained.

'Ah.' she thought. "So I'm filling shoes that no one wants filled then." she voiced, but Fred shook his head.

"On the contrary. You're a good distraction if you don't get yourself killed." the Spartan somewhat snapped at her. She leaned back in her chair a bit and Frederick gave her an apologetic look.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to come off as a jerk. All I'm saying is, you can't be throwing your life around like that. I know you're not used to working with other people, but when we lose someone in the field it hurts. Doesn't matter how long we've known each other. We're all fighting the same war, that's bond enough for us." Catherine nodded in understanding. It seemed like these people were good at berating her more than anything else.

"I joined the project to save lives. That's my goal here, and I'm sorry if that creates a burden for you all." she said, finally meeting his gaze.

"And what about your own life?" Frederick asked. That was a question she wasn't particularly fond of answering.

"That's not really my main concern. I've had a lot of close calls in my life, and I don't think I'd have particularly cared if I didn't make it out of them." she admitted. Frederick stiffened, looking at her with wide eyes.

"Catherine-"

"Don't berate me. I'm not dead, and in a lot of ways I probably should be. If I'm stuck with this life then I'm going to use it. I owe it to the people who aren't here anymore because I am." she interrupted. Frederick looked helplessly at her, as if he couldn't believe- no, didn't want to believe the words coming out of her mouth. He pressed his lips firmly together and shook his head.

"You live for them Cat…" he trailed off. "You don't waste their sacrifices." he was practically sputtering. "That's what John's doing, that's what all of us are doing." it was a serious task not to raise his voice.

"This is different. I'm to blame for-" she paused, let out a dry laugh, and coughed awkwardly. "Don't worry about it Fred, I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." she said, quickly changing the pace of conversation just as the rest of the team arrived.

The mission overview went by quickly, but Fred found himself unable to focus, often zoning out in Catherine's direction. She seemed unfazed by the declaration she had made, but he was still reeling from the declaration. He wasn't equipped for this. No, he wasn't equipped for her. The Spartan's eyes moved ever so slowly from Catherine to the green armored figure speaking to the group. He was. If anyone could understand the mindset Catherine was in it was John. He'd been in it once himself...back when he'd been the last of them.

Catherine was equally as quiet as the lieutenant, adding little to no opinion on the information provided. When they were finally dismissed, John watched her leave, unnerved ever so slightly with the silence between she and Frederick. It hadn't been hard to notice the tension rolling of the pair. Cat broke off from Linda and Kelly, who were on their way to pack up what they'd need for their trip. It was a simple investigation, nothing truly serious, and John was thankful that Lasky was sending the easiest of missions their way for the time being. He approached cautiously, walking beside her in silence. He wasn't entirely sure where she was going, but he was still trying to formulate how to bring up his concerns.

"Did you need something?" she asked, stopping suddenly, and turning to face him. The Spartan nodded slowly.

"Is everything all right. You seemed quiet today." he said. She laughed softly, a mere huff under her breath.

"I'd think that would be a good day for you." she joked. He didn't find it very funny.

"I'm serious Cath. Is there something wrong?" he pressed.

"I'm fine. Frederick gave me a reprimand, it made me think is all." she lied. It was partially true, but not exactly. The Spartan stiffened a little at the mentioning of Frederick. Catherine didn't miss the reaction, and briefly wondered if there was a dispute of some sort she was unaware of.

"Not surprising, I believe he's developed an affectionate mindset towards you." Catherine blinked in confusion, unsure of how to compute the information.

"What?" she asked. "Are you saying-" she had to pause, feeling laughter bubble in her throat. "Are you saying he's into me? That's absurd." she stated. John raised a brow at her, not nearly as amused.

"I'm completely serious, I suggest you make your intentions clear before you go leading anyone into assumptions." he advised, continuing his pace down the hall, not that he really knew where she had been on her way to in the first place.

"Hold on a minute here-" she said trying to match his pace. "I think you've got the wrong idea here. I have _no_ interest in Frederick like that, and I'd say that the feeling is mutual with the way he gets on my case about- about certain things." Catherine argued.

"I've known Frederick since we were children. When he wants something he acts like he doesn't." Catherine looked away awkwardly once he'd voiced the advice. He had known Frederick a lot longer, whereas she had known Blue Team for a few meager days.

"I see your point there, but I still don't agree with your observations. He's not interested like that." she argued. The Master Chief gave her a dead expression.

"Sure." he agreed, realizing she wasn't going to heed his warning. "He's right though. You're too reckless." the Chief added. The redhead shot him an exhausted glare.

"You two are infuriating." she grumbled. "Can't you people just let me do my job." she muttered.

"Unfortunately that would negate doing _my_ job." he explained. Catherine eyed him curiously at the statement.

"And what's that." He rewarded her question with a 'hmph' and shook his head at her.

"Keeping the four of you alive. Part of being on a team means-" he paused, looking ahead of them with an unreadable expression, as if the words caught in his throat had brought out a memory of some sort. "It means taking care of each other." he recovered, as if he hadn't entirely spaced out before her. Catherine blinked in confusion. They were both silent for a moment, and Catherine soon came to stop in front of a door the Master Chief didn't recognize. He did however, recognize the hallway, and knew many ODST's dorms were located around their location.

"I'll be ready to head out soon, just figured I should pay a friend a visit first." she said softly. The Spartan looked towards the door, then back at her.

"Make it quick." he said, turning on his heel towards the Spartan Town. She watched him take a few steps, before turning back to the door before her. What had that pause been about? Had he been thinking about Cortana? It made sense considering the topic of conversation. Her chest tightened slightly as her conversation with Frederick reminded her of things she'd rather forget. Alice was gone, and it was her fault. She knew what it felt like to look that in the face every day. Was John facing something similar?

She shook the thought from her head, knocking once on the door. It slid open to reveal a familiar face that reminded her she still had friends in this vast galaxy. "What's up home-slice." she said, cheeky grin replacing her once solemn features.

Horace's face lit up at the sight of her. "Holy crap, what in the world are you doing here, you should be resting! Didn't you have a building fall on you like...yesterday!" Horace said in surprise.

"Yeah, nothing too extensive." she joked. "Anyhow, I figured I should stop by and let you know I'm off on another adventure in a few hours." she explained. Horace gave her his mothering look, and the redhead snorted.

"Are you ready to go back to the field so soon?" he asked, concerned for his friend.

"Come on Horace, you know me better than that." she said, punching him in the shoulder lightly. "Now are you gonna invite me inside, or do I have to interrogate you about Cassandra in the hallway?" she asked smugly.

John arrived in the hanger an hour early, intent on running a few system checks on their pelican before heading out. He always double checked, overthought, and questioned, knowing full well it could be the difference between success and failure. However, he was surprised to find Frederick already present.

"You're early." he said, stating the obvious as he approached the pelican. Frederick was seated on the ramp, and looked up as he a neared.

"Figured I'd go ahead and put up my white flag." he said. John cocked his head curiously at the statement.

"White flag?" he asked, requesting more specification. Frederick shrugged.

"I told you already, if she was uninterested I'd leave her to you. I heard what she said in hall, she made her stance rather clear." John sighed in agitation at the topic.

"First of all, eavesdropping is unbecoming. Second, I'm certain she isn't interested in that. But me my guest to waste your time making up scenarios that are never going to happen if it entertains you that much." he denounced.

"Sure thing, keep up that flirtatious attitude with her though, definitely seem to work." he said sarcastically. John shot him a glare, boarding the pelican, and fighting the urge to kick Fred as he passed him.

"Do me a favor though. Keep an eye on her on her. She's….remember when we got you back from requiem? All the missions, no stopping for rest?"

"I don't need to be reminded of that Fred." he said, stopping at the top of the ramp.

"What I'm saying is, Catherine isn't right in the head. She did what she did because-" John held up a hand for him to stop.

"Watch what you say behind someone's back." he warned. Fred bit his lip, trying his best to find a way to voice his worries without saying anything offensive about the redhead.

"She doesn't value her life. I'm concerned that that's going to turn into her throwing it away." he stated, and John listened carefully to his worries. It didn't surprise him that Catherine would be facing such an issue, but he wasn't particularly sure what the root cause was.

"And what do you think is the reason for this mindset?" he inquired. Frederick seemed full of helpful information today, so his ears were open.

"She said something about losing someone, and it being her fault. Sound familiar?" the teal Spartan urged. John shot him a withered look.

"You want _me_ to fix this. Don't you." he accused.

Catherine traveled light, but this mission had her taking on a different arsenal than usual. They were being included in a murder investigation of all things. Her skills in particular in hopes that she could find something the analysts had missed. They wouldn't be going into combat, and unless they actually encountered their murderer, there was virtually a danger level of zero. She didn't think Spartans took such low level mission. She had a feeling that either it was covered in so much yellow tape that they didn't want to risk the information getting out, and Spartans were highly secretive, or they had purposely taken an easy job to acclimate themselves to her presence.

Needless to say, the only firearm she found herself packing was her standard pistol. Other than that, she needed little more than a few pairs of fresh PTs. Linda and Kelly traveled equally as light, and Catherine found it ever so slightly odd to see them loading a pelican in military scrubs rather than a suit of armor. Their pilot would be dropping them off on one of the colony planets, and they had reservations for boarding somewhere on base. Her conversation with Fred was still bothering her somewhat, but that was to be expected as she'd been forced to face skeletons in the closet that she didn't particularly like to face. Or even acknowledge for that matter. Once the occupants of the dropship were loaded, they were in route of their destination.

There were marines Catherine didn't know packed in with them, likely also bound for the same planet as Blue Team. Speaking of the Spartans, the four of them had secluded themselves away from the rest of the ship's occupants. Catherine didn't particularly care, and took a seat amongst the other passengers. She eventually lost herself in the view outside the ship, fascinated with the warm tones of the galaxy. They looked warm enough to swim in, maybe float amongst them even. If space isn't a cold vacuum, she might have given it a try. She was so wrapped up in studying the colors of the galaxy, that she didn't notice the large figure that took a seat next to her. It didn't look cold, and it irked her. Like when something looked so touchable, so tangible, but you knew it was falsely perceived as such. Or was it? Did anyone actually know what it felt like to float around in space without 'proper dress accommodations? Or was this another matter of people telling her not to eat cookie dough from the risk of salmonella? She supposed there must have been someone to test it out- space, not cookie dough- and found that it was an unlivable condition, but part of her almost wanted to pretend that they were wrong. "Science is personal observation after all." she mumbled quietly under her breath.

"In some cases, yes." she jumped, looking up into John's expectant face. Her eyes narrowed.

"You're quiet, I don't like that." she said acusitorally.

"Would you rather I talk your ear off?" he asked in a monotone voice, but she caught the hint of playfulness.

"I don't think you have it in you." she responded, unamused. His quiet, stiff presence always made her so uncomfortable. He oozed intensity, and it made her feel like a feather under a brick. His presence in such a close proximity made her feel as if she needed to be on high alert, but maybe that was because he was one of the few people to invade her general space, and his daunting difference in size put her on edge. Or maybe it was something about him that set off alarms in her head and caused her to feel uncomfortable.

Catherine reached for the bag under her seat, unzipped it, and pulled her sketchbook from inside, before digging around for a pencil. The Spartan watched her with keen, curious eyes, and the redhead forced herself not to look at him. She flipped to the page she'd been working on with the sketches of Linda and Kelly, and began adding in the subtle details she'd forgone before, if for no other reason than to give herself something to do.

"You're an artist?" he asked, his gravelly voice now much closer than it had been a second ago. He was leaning over to observe her work. She nodded, not taking her very neon colored eyes away from her work. John couldn't help but catch the change in color. She was using analysis to draw. The realization had John tilting his head curiously. She was actually using her augmentations to create something, and it fascinated him. He felt almost a little jealous of the ability. Sure he could break bones, and rip a brute's head clean off it's shoulders, but that didn't take talent.

"That's an impressive skill." he complimented. She raised a brow, briefly glancing back at him.

"Being an artist?" she asked.

"No, using your augmentations to make something they weren't originally meant for. It's smart." he stated bluntly. She shrugged the compliment off, and returned to watching her work carefully, occasionally glancing back towards the two Spartans if she forgot a detail.

"It's really not that impressive." she insisted. The chief couldn't quite determine why, but he picked up on the fact that she wasn't fond of the attention.

"It is to someone who spends more time breaking things than making them." he admitted dryly. Catherine paused, looking at him in consideration.

"Yeah, but you also protect things." he blinked in surprise and Catherine looked away, not having meant to continue the conversation. The Master Chief hadn't expected that. Sure he knew there were the rookie marines who thought the world of him, and that he was labeled a hero as far as many people were concerned, but to hear himself spoken highly of by Catherine felt unexpectedly...nice.

"If I'm being honest with you, I came over here to apologize. I was rather blunt with you earlier-"

"Just earlier?" she asked cheekily.

"Don't push it." he warned, and she actually chuckled.

"Don't apologize, no harm was done." she mumbled, a soft smile gracing her lips. He was trying his best to be civil, nice even. Considering his blunt nature, it seemed it wasn't an easy task. She didn't like meeting people halfway, fifty percent effort was too much to give, but maybe….maybe she could manage twenty five.


	7. Unfortunate Events

Author's note: Hello readers! unfortunately I have another short chapter this time around, but I have a bit of an activity in mind. Once you've finished reading this particular update, feel free to leave any questions not pertaining to spoiling the plot in the reviews, and I'll answer them at the end of the next chapter. Consider it a Q&A session, I'd like to know what you're all curious about, or if there's simply anything you've all found confusing up to this point in the story. Also, thank you Joker13455 for being the first to leave a review! Now then, without further ado, here's chapter 7!

Catherine was warm. Well, warm was an understatement. The heat around her was sweltering, and the drive to the section eight housing was going to end her life. The warthog they had been provided with for the short trip was crammed, despite the mounted gun having been removed for the vehicle's repurposing. Kelly and Linda said nothing, but their displeasure was apparent in their posture and the sweat clinging to their skin. John seemed unperturbed by the wetness around his scalp, but Fred was somewhat more verbal about his displeasure with an occasional "Is anyone else a little warm?" and "It's way to hot out here." grumbled under his breath. Catherine had to agree, but refused to do so verbally. Linda and Kelly seemed agitated with his complainnig as it was. She couldn't help but find it funny that even as highly trained soldiers, females were still the more irritable ones of the group. She had to fight the stupid grin that begged to bleed into her expression.

When the heavy tires rolled up to the check in building, Catherine was the first to nimbly hop from the vehicle to retrieve the rooming packet that would contain their room key and housing number. "I'll be quick!" she called to the team, eagerly running to the air conditioned building.

"Don't hog all the cold air." John replied momotonely.

"At least I take up less space." she fired over her shoulder haughtily. There was an implied 'at least I don't _waste_ as much space' that had John grumbling under his breath.

"Stop flirting and get the damn room key." Fred berated, and Catherine rolled her eyes as she pulled the heavy glass door open, stepping inside the cool building. John shot the lieutenant a look of disapproval.

"Could you not?" he asked, although it was more of a threat than a question. Frederick raised a brow at him, and Linda rolled her eyes from the back seat.

"Not what? Make fun of you two for the entertainment in an attempt to loosen the tension over the elephant in the room,That elephant being that she sees us as stiff, unempathetic bricks and we retaliate by regarding her like an inconvenience? You mean that? Does that _bother _you Chief?" Frederick asked sarcastically, voice rising in pitch to drive his point home.

"I expect you to be more professional than a chatty rookie. You're a Spartan but you damn well don't act like one anymore." that little word at the end of his sentence had Fred feeling a touch of anger boil up inside him.

"Ya know, I think you don't like Catherine because she makes you feel _human_ again. Let me guess, too close to home? Too close to _Corta-"_

"Catherine 005 and I are _nothing._ That's that. That's all it will ever be. You're welcome to waste your time with pointless jokes on anything else, but not that. I find absolutely nothing attractive in someone who acts like a fool and a child." he declared, his tone loud and thunderous, leaving no room for argument on the subject. He was done hearing about the topic.

There was silence among the group, and the Chief slowly turned his sights away from Frederick to the figure that had stopped half way in her approach to the vehicle. The toe of her boot dug into the dirt as she bit her lip. She looked almost deflated, and John realized too late that he'd gone to far in insulting her as he had. He could have simply voiced his disinterest, but Frederick had called him out, and it had hit him where he was sore.

"Catheri-"

"We're on the first floor, pool is behind the building, nice touch being so hot and all. Whoever designed this place needs a raise." she interrupted. 'Heaven forbid he apologize and make things even more awkward.' she thought. The Spartans watched her warily as she climbed back into her seat. Linda shifted her leg ever so slightly, kneeing the back of John's seat, and voicing her distaste with the unnecessary contact.

He should have watched his tongue better than that. This was why he preferred silence. He wasn't good at saying the right thing, and he'd likely wedged a rift between them...again. And this time, he wasn't sure how to fix it, or if he even needed to. She seemed uninterested in discussing the fact that she had quite literally caught him insulting her behind her back. He briefly wondered if she was glaring at him from the back, but a quick glance in the rearview mirror told him she had stuck her nose in her sketchbook, but the heat of embarassmet hadn't left her cheeks yet.

"Did you know Cat's an artist Frederick? She's got a good eye for detail." Kelly voiced. John felt an ounce of surprise at the compliment directed towards the redhead. Kelly however, felt no hesitation in the compliment. John had just knocked her pride down a few years, and it showed. It made the brunette irritated, and so she took the opportunity to build her back up just a bit.

"I wasn't aware of that. Although I'm not surprised." he responded softly in that gentle, light tone he used when the occasion called for it. John felt his stomach roll, remembering the conversation he'd had with her on the pelican, and the good things she'd said about him, and with a cold feeling in his chest, he realized that Frederick's accusation had been _right._"

"I used to take lessons back in at the-" she paused, momentarily fumbling with her words. "In my hometown." she managed, struggling to find a replacement for the words she'd been prepared to say. The two Spartans beside her gave her wide eyed looks of worry, before glancing at each other.

"And where pray tell, is that?" John asked, somewhat curious of the topic that seemed to have nearly caused her an aneurysm.

"Earth. Up north." she said vaguely, swallowing thickly. Her mind was blaring alarms at her, telling her to stop talking. She hadn't meant to give away personal information. That wasn't on the table. The only person she'd confided in concerning her...predicament had been Captain Lasky, and he'd just been Tom back then, still higher ranked than her, but not yet holding the impressive status of Captain of the _Infinity. _"So this mission, or _investigation_ rather, what do we already know?" she asked, diverting the topic as quickly as possible.

"Well, there's been three victims thus far, all UNSC council members, but no correlation between them. The killer was supposedly not very good at his job and left a _lot _of clues behind. They were able to identify him, but no one had a clue as to where he is, or how to find him." Frederick explained.

"That's where you come in. Your handy trick should spot the information they're missing." John cut in. Catherine nodded.

"So they want analysis then?" she asked for clarification.

"If that's what you call it, then yeah. They want analysis." Frederick agreed. So it wasn't either of Catherine's suspicions for the reasoning behind the request for Blue Team. If anything, it seemed _she_ was the one whose presence had been requested. Oh. She was quiet for a moment, letting the information sink in. "So it's a man hunt!" she said in excitement, causing most of the vehicle's occupants to jump at the sudden unexpected noise.

"Yes." Linda confirmed tepedaciously.

"It's like an easter egg hunt! Except with living targets!" she was truly excited now, and Kelly was staring at her with her mouth agape. "You all don't seem as excited about this." she said softly, realizing that there was now a befuddled silence around her.

"I'm ecstatic." Linda said in her classic, monotione. Catherine didn't believe her.

Blue Team wasn't due to the scene of the latest crime for another fifteen hours, and Catherine, unable to take the heat any longer, had succumbed to the cool blue pool that smelled highly of chlorine, nothing like the fresh, saltwater she much preferred. However, unbeknown to her, her commanding officer was locked in a battle with himself, staring down the offending piece of property that had been left unattended and vulnerable to the occupants of their dorm. Frederick ignored the other Spartan as he longed in the top bunk basking in the sunlight that space soldiers rarely experienced. Linda and Kelly had gone to the mess on base, and John was left alone with his own curiosities.

He stared down the sketchbook that Catherine had discarded n her bed, contemplating, considering, and trying very hard to convince himself that it was a bad idea to go snooping. On one hand, it was private property that didn't belong to him, but on the other, it wasn't as if something classified lay inside. HE could simply take a peak, and the information inside wouldn't affect anything major. At least not as far as he knew.

"If you're gonna snoop, just do it." Frederick cut into his thoughts, breaking his concentration.

"It would be rude." he argued.

"Then ask her first." the lieutenant suggested.

"She'd say no. She's secretive." he pointed out, more to himself than his teammate.

"If she was so secretive, why'd she just leave it out like that?" That...was a very good point. If she really hadn't wanted it to be bothered, she'd have tucked it away.

"So you're condoning this then?" he inquired, picking up the object of his curiosity.

"_You're _in charge. Don't go looking for permission from me." Fred said pointedly. "However, I'm equally as curious, and worried, about our little red haired friend." He added.

"Was that a promise not to tell on me?" John asked in almost amusement, flicking open the cover.

"It might have been." John shook his head as he headed for the sliding door, deciding to occupy the sturdy looking porch chair. It was metal, and looked as if it would hold his weight.

There were mostly simple sketches, a few more detailed portraits, and other inanimate objects. The further into the book he flipped, the more detailed the images became. There was one image in particular that had him pausing to look at it a little longer. There was a small, blonde girl, long hair, and pretty blue eyes. However, the way they'd been drawn made them look glazed over in a way he was all too familiar with. Lifeless. She was dead. The image was unsettling, and John flipping the page, unable to look at it any longer. The following picture was of a brick building, a small pond residing in front of it. The place was shrouded with trees, and had an odd appearance to it. It didn't look like a home, but more like...like something else. He could have sworn he'd seen one identical to it on Harvest. He closed his eyes, remembering back to that day long ago.

He remembered it, finding the bodies of several children inside post covenant attack. Why would she have something like that in her sketchbook? It was undoubtedly a different building, but it was similar, so similar, that the Master Chief could have sworn there was a correlation between them. It was shaded, and detailed down to the little crevices in the faded brickwork. There was a depressing sense of deja vu, and he chose to move on from the picture. However the next thing lied up had him pausing. There was a figure in armor that highly resembled the easier models of his own, poised in a few positions, one of them boxing an invisible figure, the other simply standing profiled to the viewer. When….when had she drawn this? Was it...him?

"I can explain!" John froze, stiffening his shoulders. He'd been caught. Had he not had the amount of self control that he did, he may have jumped. "I was stationed on the same ship as you were a couple of years ago, ok maybe a lot of years ago. Close to ten actually, and I didn't know you were even there until I was leaving, and you were in the gym, and I was on the observation deck waiting for my dropship and I was bored so I just started practicing and-" She stopped rambling long enough to notice that he wasn't mad, and was staring at her with a newfound curiosity. "I'm not weird. I mean I am, that's a given, I mean I'm not a stalker-" he held up a hand to silence er rambling and she bit her lip, digging a foot into the ground again. John chose not to comment on her declaration, and instead redirected the topic.

"You drew this, while actively watching me move around?" he asked, twirling a finger in the air as he accented the question of movement. She nodded. "That's not easy, correct?" he asked.

"Some people would say so." she agreed, unsure of his point. He looked at the drawing for a moment, pondering over his next words very carefully. He had an opportunity to mend his mistake, and he didn't want to waste it on words that fell short. Her green eyes, closet remembering twin emeralds flashed side to side, avoiding eye contact with him.

"Cath, you're really talented. You know that, right?" he posed the question carefully. Her face reddened ever so slightly.

"So I've been told." she muttered, unsure of how to take the compliment. Few people had ever actually done so, and it was a foreign concept to her. John realized that for the moment, she actually had her guard down around him. Maybe that was a green light for his next course of action.

"I'd like to apologize-"

"Please don't." she interrupted. He looked at her in surprise. He'd have thought she'd have _wanted_ an apology for his behavior. She definitely deserved one.

"I-" he began but she shook her head. John didn't like being interrupted, but this brash woman before him seemed to love doing just that.

"I don't actually care what you think of me. I know that's harsh, but other people's opinion of me stopped bothering me a _long_ time ago. And quite frankly, I don't think you're sorry you said it. Sorry that you got caught maybe, but not that you actually thought that about me." she explained with a dry humor in her voice. His eyes narrowed at her slightly, unhappy with her denial, but willing to accept it all the same. However he couldn't help but feel that she was being truthful with him. At least partially. If his opinion of her didn't matter, why had she seemed so downcast once he'd voiced it? Maybe it embarrassed her? The idea that his idea of her actually concerned her may have been a blow to her pride that she was unwilling to admit. In his mind, it made all the more reason for him to voice an apology, but the look in her eyes told him she wasn't having any of it.

"Alright, that's fair." he said with an edge to his voice. She was silent after that, and after a moment passed by she coughed awkwardly, holding her hand out. Oh. With a grim disappointment, he handed over his contraband, vexed that he hadn't finished looking through it. She returned inside, shaking her head just before she passed through the door in order to shake some of the moisture from her hair before it could drip on the flooring. Water droplets hit the side of his face, and he huffed under his breath as he wiped a hand across his face. She'd done that on purpose.

The home of one of the UNSC's many councilman had been roped off and covered in yellow tape long before Blue Team arrived, but the scene was buzzing with personel when they entered the crime scene, and one would think the atrocity had just happened.

"It smells like blood in here." Catherine said as they entered the front door, the Spartan's behind her having to duck a bit.

"I can't imagine why." Kelly said sarcastically. The body had been removed, but there was a bloodstain in the kitchen that spoke of the most recent killing. The place was a mess, as if a struggle had been put up, sadly in vein, and the intruder hadn't bothered to clean it up in an attempt to cover his tracks. Catherine's eyes lit up as she took the scene in, and a nearby officer jumped upon turning to face her. The redhead ignored her, focusing on the little things that flagged in her vision. Smudges and fingerprints on the glass countertop were visible under her close scrutinization, but she payed them very little attention. They knew who they were looking for, identification isn't the goal. Her eyes slid to the blood pooling on the floor, and something caught her eye. A small, granny substance was stuck in the red substance, and it seemed the rest of the floor was also coated in patches of it. She pulled a rag from the counter and wiped the floor, before pulling it closer to her vision. Sand. Not something people normally had lying around their house.

"Chief." she called, and the Spartan who had been more or less interrogating the head officer for information paused to look her way. Frederick, who was inspecting the windows and doors for a point of entry, also turned his attention to the redhead.

"You've got something?" Linda asked, coming to inspect the cloth in her hands.

"Is there a beach nearby?" she asked, and John looked to the officer for an answer. The man shook his head.

"Not anywhere near here, There's one about fifty miles south…" he trailed off, seeing the information as not particularly helpful.

"Too far." she muttered. "There's sand on the floor, maybe leftover from shoes, or brushed off of clothes. Is there anywhere nearby that someone might have picked it up?" she was certain there was a connection.

"Not that I can think of, it's definitely a strange discovery, but I can't say I have any answers." the officer said.

"There is one place!" one of the younger investigators cut in. "There's a river behind the local school, it's manmade, and they had sand laid when it was first being made. There are still areas covered in it that the kids like to go play in after school. The information alarmed the redhead slightly, and she nodded.

"Have the area roped off, the last thing we want is some sicko running into a bunch of little kids." she muttered. "I'm going to check the rest of the house, we'll head over there shortly?" she asked, turning to the Chief. He nodded curtly, and she turned in the direction of the stairs. The house was elaborate, and the staircase before her was huge.

"Who exactly are we hunting? Is there somewhere they might go, an address under their name maybe?" Kelly asked.

"Unfortunately, Mr Estrefi hasn't been back on base since wwe identified him as our murderer." the head officer explained. "He was one of ours, been fighting since the war with the insurrectionists. Can't understand why he'd go off like this." Kelly found the explanation strange also. Why a marine who had served that many years would commit murder of all things was beyond her.

"Maybe because he's sick of living off minimum wage, while cowards like our 'Mr wealthy councilman' are living the dream from the safe side of the war." Catherine mused from the stairs as she ascended the winding steps.

"This seems a little more personal than that." Linda muttered, eyes locked on the mess in the kitchen. As Catherine neared the upper level of the house, the smell of blood became heavier, and Catherine was forced to plug her nose. What on earth...the crime scene was downstairs, so why did it smell so terrible on the second floor? As she neared the room that smelled the worst, she checked her firearm, making sure the safety was off, and that the weapon was ready to be fired. She pushed the door open, and winced at the sound of it creaking loudly.

"That's not ominous a all." she whispered to herself. She stepped into the room, at took a look at what lay inside. It was an office, with a desk in one corner, a few filing cabinets, and other oddities like bookshelves and whatnot. It was an extremely normal scene, however there was one thing that Catherine found off. There was a banner hanging above the mahogany desk, covered in a symbol that was by no means from any human language.

She knew that symbol, but where had she seen it before? She thought hard for a moment, but her concentration was broken as the door to the study made a distinct click shut. All was silent in the room, and for a moment, Catherine didn't dare move. She turned slowly, cased the room, then made her way towards the now closed door. She jiggled the handle, and felt her heartbeat begin to thunder it her chest. "The hell! Let me out! Hello?" she pounded on the door, sure that she wa making a considerable amount of noise. Why was the door locked? What the hell was happening? In the back of her mind, the redhead couldn't help but think that she had seemingly waltzed right into a trap. She sensed a presence behind her, seemingly out of nowhere, and a familiar pinch in her neck followed. She knew the jab of a syringe when she felt one, and a sticky, thick fog began to weigh down on her consciousness.

Catherine turned, lashing out at the attacker with her fists, but her vision was clouded with an onslaught of information, as if the drug had induced some sort of sensory overload in her analysis. She stumbled, knees hitting the ground as thick, blue liquid dripped from her nose, dropping onto the carpet beneath her. The blurred image of a figure approaching her was the last think she saw before the world went black around her.


	8. Unexpected Informants

Catherine wished she could say that passing out hadn't become a regular occurrence since joining Blue Team. And yet, the universe denied her that privilege. She could feel her stomach doing all sorts of unnatural things as her head pounded. Her eyes fluttered open, and as her vision swam in and out, she could have sworn the setting around her switched from bright white drywall, to the dreaded brick walls of knoxville's sector three. It made her stomach sick, whether from the dizziness that the constant image change brought, or the mere thought of the place, she wasn't sure.

Cat mumbled inaudible, unsure of what she was even saying herself. She felt the dizziness backing off in waves, and what was around her became clearer. She was in a med-bay, though definitely not Infinitie's, as there was far to much natural light pouring in through the windows. There was a cold, wet cloth placed on her forehead, and once the figure beside her noticed her newly found consciousness, the cloth was removed, rung out, then replaced, freshly cooled by ice water.

"Look who's awake." John's baritone rasp, accompanied by his calloused fingers on her neck, carefully checking her pulse, aided in calming the nerves, and the tumbling in her stomach.

"They were there." she said softly, tying to form a lucid thought about how she'd came to be in her current predicament. "They were in the house." she muttered, sitting up slowly.

"I know, now take it easy." he ordered, but she ignored him, stumbling out of bed and towards the wastebasket. She sank to her knees and promptly vomited into the bin. When her stomach was finished emptying itself, she felt admittedly better. At least until she was hefted off the floor by a pair of much stronger arms, and settled back into her cot.

"Little warning next time." she mumbled as her head spun. The Chief silently offered her a canteen of water, and she was eager to accept it. "Did they get away?" she asked, and John let out a disgruntled huff.

"They were long gone by the time we found you. If Fred hadn't heard you.." he trailed off, and Catherine could tell that he was frustrated with himself, which she found odd, considering the fact that it was technically her fault the attacker had gotten away. And then it clicked. They were hunting Estrefi. A man, one whom was a marine, and likely a heavily built one too.

"Chief…" she began, and his eyes settled on her own. "I wasn't attacked by Estrefi." she said. His eyes narrowed in confusion.

"How can you be sure?" he asked. She was drugged, and it was completely possibly she wasn't seeing things correctly.

"Because it was a woman. I mean think about it. A veteran wouldn't have needed to drug me to get away. Which brings up the equally confusing question of why drug someone when you're apparently not above murder." she began, running the scenarios in her head.

"You could have been hallucinating Cath. You had a dangerous blend in your system, it sent your brain activity through the roof." he pointed out. The scanners had registered a lot of feedback, and he'd wondered if she was having a stroke.

"That's possible. I swear analysis went on the fritz. It was like they knew it would have that effect.." she trailed off. She shook her head, learning the thought. She didn't want to think about that. "Did you find anything behind the school?" she asked, deciding to switch the subject.

"We didn't go, we were more concerned with getting you to a hospital." he said. John had been shaken to his core, and he still was for that matter. Fred had dashed for the second level with no explanation, claiming he'd thought he'd heard something briefly as they had followed behind him. When they'd cased all but the one locked room for the redhead and found no sign of her, John had broken down the door without a second thought. He'd have suspected her to be dead if he hadn't heard her labored breathing.

"You shouldn't have wasted the time, they could be gone by now." she said.

"They?" he was sure he'd heard her right, but she wasn't making much sense.

"I'm not willing to rule out the possibility that there's more than one person involved. Yes, I was pretty out of it, but that doesn't mean we should be careless." she argued. He nodded, contemplating the idea in his head. "And on the topic of many-" she began, throat feeling thick. "I need to finish investigating that room." she said. John felt alarm bells go off in his head

"Absolutely not." he decided, and Catherine blanched. "I am not risking the scenario of bringing you back to Infinity in a body bag." he said. Catherine felt her temper boil a little, but forced it down.

"How the hell am I supposed to be useful to the team if you keep benching me every time things get a little dangerous? Do you have any idea how many ops I've been on? I survived ten plus years in the military before you came along, so if you'd kindly let me do my job." she tried to keep the annoyance out of her voice as she held John's blue gaze. He bit his lip, clearly mulling over her point.

"Not alone. I've already nearly lost you twice, and that's not a fact I'm proud of." he said sternly. He didn't like having to hold her back, but he wasn't accustomed to her limits yet.

"Says the man who was dead for four years!" she accused. He raised a brow at her, and she glared at him. "But no, I've had two mishaps, lets call it quits." she said sarcastically. Her cheeks were puffed out in irritation, and it honestly made him want to laugh. For someone so small she just had so much attitude. As Linda liked to put it, she seemed determined to 'fight the sun' out of sheer determination. She was small, and possibly the most unthreatening character he'd had the pleasure, or displeasure rather, of coming across, and yet she regarded him as if she were fully capable of putting him in the ground. Although, she had proven to be tougher than he'd expected. He was almost curious as to why that was. Was she stronger than her appearance let on, or was her ego simply a lot bigger than she was?

"You'll have an escort, that's my final deal, take it or leave it." he finalized. She grit her teeth, and gave him her most infuriated pout.

"You're assuming I need your permission. If I have valuable information, they won't deny me access." she pointed out. The Spartan, who had taken to sitting in her bedside chair at the start of her argument, leaned back in amusement.

"Guess I won't be letting you out of my sight then. In which case, you won't have to worry about finding yourself an escort." his snarky little smirk irked her, the corners of his lips quirked up, and causing the scar on his top lip to shift. She stared at him, jaw ticked and eyes glowering.

"And they wonder why I don't like you."

John felt in his core that he shouldn't have allowed Catherine back into that house, but she had a point. She wasn't his to babysit, she was there to do her job. It still didn't quell the little voice in his head that screamed 'danger' about the situation. It was the same feeling he'd had when Blue Team had come across the didact. The psychologist he'd briefly seen, very briefly, after his return from requiem had told him it was a mental safety net of sorts. A case of the mind evolving itself in order to protect itself from the pressure it had been under when previously making a mistake. He had a feeling it had started with Sam, and over the time of losing Captain Keyes, Miranda, Johnson, and lastly Cortana, he had come to associate the consequence of risking his teammates with the mental strain. Therefore warenting the initial trepidation he felt when putting Catherine in an mildly dangerous situation. It all fell under one category in the grand scheme of things. PTSD.

It likely should have concerned the Master Chief upon recognizing this in himself, but Spartans were born from PTSD, and he wasn't particularly worried about his state of mind, as long as it didn't become a danger to those around him. It was a matter of adapting. He'd been doing that all his life, there was no difference now. As he sat behind the wheel of the warthog, he glanced to the passenger beside him. He hadn't taken much time to notice how short her hair was now. Kelly had informed him it had become a problem during their first mission, and she'd had to get rid of it right then and there. As a result, it was uneven, and didn't fall in any particular direction. It was messy, but he supposed it suited her.

There was so much about her that he had to be curious about, and she was so unwilling to share. Normally it wouldn't have bothered him. Normally he kept his mouth shut. "May I...ask you something?" However, John wasn't exactly feeling normal for the moment.

"Shoot." she said, nonchalantly gesturing to him with the wave of her hand. He rolled his eyes at her simplistic brush off.

"You're family, where are they?" he asked. He noticed her body stiffen from the corner of his vision. "I mean, you said you've been working for ONI and the UNSC for a while, but you don't seem all that old. Did you enlist early on in life, or were you just raised in the military?" he wasn't sure if the topic was a sore one, or if she simply felt awkward about it for some reason, but she seemed hesitant to answer.

"I was raised in it." she said carefully, and John briefly wondered what the need for secrecy was. He had just about a million theories in his head now. Maybe she hadn't wanted to be military, and had joined due to pressure from her parents, leading to a rift in the family, or maybe they hadn't been involved in her life, which would explain her lack of basic attitude training, and joining the military had been a way to gain attention. He'd heard similar stories from other marines, complaining to each other about their home lives.

"What rank?" She jolted.

"I'm sorry?" she asked, a nervousness in her voice that set him on edge. He kept up the polite tone despite it.

"Your parents, what rank are they?" he asked only to realize all to late his mistake. "I'm so sorry...I didn't even think to ask if they were still-"

"It's fine." she cut him off sharply. "They didn't die in the war if that's what you're asking. I don't want to talk about them." John felt as if he'd been verbally smacked in the face. What had warranted such a venomous reaction.

"I'm sorry." apologizing seemed like the only correct response for the moment. He'd ask Linda to do some digging ito ONI's database later. If anyone could find connected parties to the redhead it would be the team hacker. "I'm just curious, I know how my team thinks, how to communicate with them because I've known them practically all their lives. We don't know anything about you, and it would make things easier on everyone if we could read you better. That's what makes a successful team." he explained. It was close the same explanation Dr. Halsey had presented at the beginning of the Spartan program, and it seemed John's best bet for the moment was to steal words that were not quite his own.

Catherine watched him in suspicion for merely a moment before shaking her head at him. "You don't need to know anything about me to know that I can do my job." she declared.

"That's not my concern." he admitted. "The character you're going to do it with is. You're representing my team." he added sternly. Catherine huffed, blowing air out and sucking it back in as she tried to control her temper. It was as if she was a bomb, just ticking as it became closer and closer to detonation. He decide it was time to stop, before he really caused her to blow. "What are you looking for, or do you know that yet?" he asked, trying to change the topic.

"The other body." she said simply. He blinked in confusion. Other….

"The what?" he asked. She couldn't possibly mean someone else in the house was dead. "There's no other body." he argued.

"Bet you twenty credits there is. I could smell blood upstairs in the office. The heat wasn't on, so there's no reason the scent should have risen for the kitchen. And then there's that banner…" she trailed off.

"Banner?" she wasn't making much sense.

"You didn't see it? It was some weird symbol crap. Looked like alien gibber- oh thats it." she said softly, sitting up straight in her seat as the warthog came to a stop at the scene. She dashed from the vehicle, and John found himself chasing after her, disgruntled with her lack of explanation. When he finally caught up to her, she had pulled a cellular device from her pocket, at began scanning the foretold banner that sat innocently above the desk. John couldn't believe he hadn't seen it before. Had he been so distracted by Catherine's disposition that he hadn't noticed it?

"Cath-" he began.

"Just wait a minute." she scolded as she cross referenced it with what data the UNSC had with the covenant language.

"Cath-" he began a second time, gaining her attention. He didn't need a translator to recognize that symbol.

"That's the Didact's Hand. That's their flag." he stated seriously. That was it! She had seen it in the control room when she had set off that bomb!

"I knew I had seen it before!" she exclaimed. "I wonder why he councilman has one." she whispered curiously. This was bad. Very bad. It could mean the whole investigation had been turned upside down. It was then that Catherine noticed something. The ceiling tile just above the flag was askew just slightly, and along the rim of its frame was something unexpected. Something red. She climbed on top of the desk, reaching up towards it. The chief crossed his arms over his chest, giving her a flat look.

"What are you doing?" She shot him a glare in response.

"You could help you know." she pointed out. He eyed her warily for a moment, before coming closer, grabbing her around the waist, and hefting her to the ceiling. She slid the tile out of the way completely after hitting her head on it, and pulled herself up and out of his grip. Her eyes settled on the form in front of her, and her green orbs widened considerably. Blood leaked from the woman lying above the ceiling, soaking into the tiles underneath her. She moved carefully towards her, but the tiles gave, and her added weight caused that damaged area to come crashing down.

John hadn't expected the ceiling to suddenly give, letting way a pool of red that splashed to the floor with it, and he was quick to catch Catherine in her fall, only to pause. That….wasn't Catherine. "Ahem." John's eyes tilted downwards, settling on the agitated redhead that sat on the floor amongst the debris, before returning them to the woman in his arms.

'Oh.' he laid the body gently across the desk, and offered her a hand up. Despite her glare, she accepted the offer.

"Thanks Chief, you're a real lifesaver there." she commented snidely. "Oh, and you owe me twenty credits." she added bitterly.

"I never agreed to that bet." he voiced, but his argument went unnoticed as she inspected the dark haired woman.

"Well, she's got an ID. Victoria Hender. Sanitary Cleaning Co. huh? Must be the house maid." she said, examining the woman's work worn hands. "Clothes smell like cleaning product, hands are dry, a side effect of coming in contact with lots of chemicals, likely not a threat. Saw something she shouldn't have maybe?" she was talking to herself, but John still felt the need to present his own thoughts on the matter.

"But why kill someone that saw you, who wasn't even the target, if you're just going to leave fingerprints everywhere. They even caught him on camera." John pointed out.

"Maybe it's the murder that she saw. Maybe it has something to do wit the placement." Catherine said, taking a few steps back from the scene. "Why put her body above the flag? Think about it. Maybe it's a message of some sorts." she tapped a finger to her chin thoughtfully, and placed a hand on her hip. There was a breathy wheeze, and both Spartan and marine foze. Slowy, Catherine's head turned towards the body lying on the table. The Master Chief stared wide eyed as the redhead cautiously approached the woman, checking for a pulse. "Chief, I don't think...this is her blood." she mumbled.

"And why is that?" he wasn't sure how he felt about her answer.

"Because she's very much alive." Maybe it was a good thing he'd caught her instead of Catherine.

An ambulance, as well as a horde of investigators, were on the scene within minutes. Victoria Hender's unconscious body was carted off to the hospital with a suspected concussion, and samples of the blood were taken to lab in an attempt to discern who the DNA belonged to. It wasn't until one of the medics asked her if she was injured that Catherine realised she was quite literally, splattered in blood. To be fair she had fallen in a puddle of the nasty stuff when crashing through the ceiling. She really hoped the UNSC wasn't going to make her pay for that damage.

"You should go back to base and shower." John said as he loaded himself into the warthog they had come in. Catherine leaned on the side of the hood, bumping it with her hip.

"And where are you going?" she drawled.

"To meet up with Blue Team. They left to investigate the river an hour ago, they just contacted me, and they think they've found something. I've told them not to engage until I arrive." He explained. Catherine nodded in understanding. She'd rather take a shower than go mucking through the woods anyhow. She'd done plenty of that as a child, so she wasn't exactly missing out on anything.

"I'm guessing you expect me to catch a ride with one of the officers?" she asked.

"You're welcome to walk." he said in a sarcastically inviting tone. "Go clean up. You smell like death." he said, and she shook her head, turning away from him to return to the fray of people.

"You mean almost death." she called over her shoulder.

Catherine had forgotten how good a hot shower felt. Most bases had lukewarm water, and it never quite reached that perfect temperature. She was quick to wash the red liquid off her skin, knowing it wasn't the most sanitary fluid to have on one's skin. Part of her was offended that John hadn't wanted to wait for her to investigate further, but she also understood that time was running short for them. Still, it felt like she was being left in the dust yet again.

She threw her scrubs in the bin labled 'Hazardous Waste', exchanging them for a clean pair, and went about towel drying her short hair. She hadn't been contacted by the team, but she had a feeling they were rather occupied with whatever they had found. Once she was satisfied with the state of her damp locks, Cat hung her towel, and hunted for a bottle of bleach, and a bucket to soak her scrubs. Upon finding a bottle in one of the washroom cabinets, she emptied approximately a cup into a small bucket, added water to the chemical mixture, and went to retrieve her scrubs. She rinsed her top in the sink, before dropping it into the bucket, and moving to retrieve her pants. However, upon picking them up, a curious sound greeted her ears. The sound of crumpling paper. She suck her hand in the pocket, and pulled out what lay inside. A note, with a messy scrawling in black ink. She hadn't put it there, and it's existence baffled her entirely.

'Would you like to know about the traitors?'

"What?" she whispered softly, examining the piece of paper closely. She turned it over to find a series of numbers hastily written on the back. A phone number maybe? No, there weren't enough digits. A COM channel? "Coordinates." she realized aloud. She pocketed the paper, and idly returned to her task. Who had left her a note with coordinates? The only one who had been close enough to her to slip such a think in her pocket was the Chief, and she was fairly sure she'd have caught him. Unless he did it when she was unconscious. Then again...he wasn't the only one that had been close to her. A chill ran through her spine at the thought of her attacker having placed it on her. Maybe they knew something about the case? The traitor, were they talking about Estrfi? Or something else? "Maybe it has something to do with that flag." she muttered to herself.

"I'm sorry?" Catherine jumped, not having realized someone else had entered the washroom. The woman across from her gave her a perplexed look, and she smiled nervously in return.

"Oh, my bad. Talking to myself again." The woman gave her a wary glance and turned away.

'Great job there Cat.' she scolded herself. No wonder everyone around her thought she was crazy.

"What have you found so far?" the Chief asked as he followed his team through the wooded area around the river. It wasn't large by any means, but it looked like the sort of think children would splash around in. Sure enough, the banks were coated in the same sand Catherine had found at the councilman's house. 'Clever girl.'

"We found an old shack close to the river. Some age old wooden structure that looks like it's ready to fall apart." Frederick explained.

"And what's so special about your 'shack'?" the Spartan asked as they approached, and Fred held up a hand for the group to stop.

"Inside, there's...evidence. Photographs, maps, even a copy of the bases guard rotation." Linda said.

"Evidence of what?" John asked in confusion.

"We think our councilman might have been an undercover insurrectionist. I have a feeling

Mr Estrefi was onto something. We read his logs, and he seems to think that the insurrectionists were going to attempt a treaty of sorts with the covenant against the UNSC." Kelly explained. John's eyes widened in realization.

"Unfortunately I think he might be right." the Spartan mumbled, recalling the banner in the councilman's office. Linda had eyes on the structure through the scope of her rifle, but they were close enough that John could still she it fro their position. "Has anyone gone in or out?" he asked, and Kelly shook her head. "Let's hope we haven't scared them off then." he muttered.

"Hey Chief-" Fred spoke up, gaining the attention of their leader. "Why would Estrefi just kill the councilman if he had all this evidence?" the lieutenant asked.

"Maybe he was being watched too closely. He may have been counting on the evidence to get himself out of prison." Linda supposed.

"If that's the case, then he'll definitely be back for it." Kelly supplied.

The location was off base entirely. She had expected more than a hotel bar, but she supposed it was a little muc to ask of a supposed criminal. She took a seat at a private table, ordered a simple appetizer, and waited. There were a lot of marines around, but most of them were either tipsy or completely intoxicated, and disregarded her. A waitress approached her table with a pink, fruity looking drink, and set it on her table, looking somewhat pale.

"Oh I didn't or-"

"No. You didn't." she said, voice soft, and reminding Catherine of a mouse. She scurried off quickly, glancing at her behind her shoulder.

'Alright then.' the redhead mused,curiously looking at the drink. "If someone wants to play clue, then I'm game." she mumbled. The drink was meant to relay some sort of information, but what it was, that part was a mystery. But a good brain teaser never hurt anyone. She picked up a menu, and began looking through it for a drink that resembled the one in front of her. Her search turned up void however, and she found herself slouching in her seat. Maybe it wasn't the name of the everage. Maybe it was-

"For heaven's sake. You were supposed to drink the damn thing. No one comes to a bar to order chicken fingers. You're not very good at subtlety." Catherine watched in surprise as a figure, one that was obviously female, slid into the seat across from her. She was dressed in black pants, and a leather jacket.

"You wanna lose the hood Aragorn? Cause nobody wears cloaks in a bar anymore." Catherine retorted, leaning back in her chair. "And why a bar for that matter?" she mused aloud.

"Because in a place where people are intoxicated, they are less likely to prove useful as a witness." Catherine watched in surprise as the woman lowered her hood to reveal something she had not been expecting. The woman before her had honey blonde hair that fell to the bottom of her neck, and eyes that resembled a lavender color. Those features however, were not he most disconcerting. What truly shocked the redhead, was the woman's ears, pointed at the tips like a fantasy creature. She grinned in amusement at Catherine's shocked face, and the sharp, catlike canines became visible. While her hands looked almost like that of a human, she couldn't help but notice the tiniest details that made them look more claw-like. This being before her was not human. There was something about her that Catherine almost found familiar, and the redhead felt the need to put some distance between her and the woman before her.

"You were the one that attacked me." she accused.

"That I was, I couldn't risk you topping me from leaving without your little friends seeing me. I didn't give you anything that could kill, your welcome."she said with a flippan wave of her hand. Catherine felt her jaw drop.

"I was in the hospital! Vomiting might I add-"

"Keep your voice down." Catherine retracted immediately at eh scolding. "Now listen to me very carefully. Your 'councilman' isn't who he says he is. He's an insurrectionist, one who is at the top of the food chain. He and the Didact's Hand have made an agreement of sorts. They, as reclaimers, will aid Jul M'dama in acquiring a Forerunner weapon which he intends to use against your people. His little cleaning lady? She was his handler. Also an undercover insurrectionist."

"So..you were trying to warn me?" she asked. She knew the body and the flag had gone together for a reason.

"You could call it that. I came in contact with Mr. Estefi through...interesting means. I agreed to get him the evidence he required, and in return he'd get me an audience with you." Oh. Catherine's eyes narrowed slightly at one simple realization. She was the target here.

"And why, pray tell, would you want to meet me? Who the hell even are you, more importantly, what the hell are you?" she demanded.

"I had a feeling you didn't remember. Seems I was correct. You may know me as Fayree, and that name alone." she answered.

"That doesn't give me all y answers" She hissed. She was becoming fed up with this 'Fayree'.

"And I will get to them. I wanted to see you to warn you. You're in danger. You're about to discover things that would be safer if not uncovered, but unfortunately I cannot keep you from them. You must keep them a secret from those you do not yet trust. Including your commander." It was not what she expected to hear, but for some reason, it didn't surprise her that Fayree already knew about Blue Team. It appeared she had a stalker who was good at her job.

"And why shouldn't I? I mean I don't exactly like him either, but humor me." she dared curiously. Fayree seemed amused with her response.

"I've gotten my hands on quite a few classified pieces of information-don't you dare ask how- and I've made myself familiar with the roots of the Spartan program. They are not loyal to you. They are loyal to the UNSC, and they will not side with you. Indoctrination is a tricky thing to trifle with." Catherine's head dipped ever so slightly. Fayree was likely right. It didn't seem likely that the Spartans would give a second thought about leaving her to the wolves, however, she didn't understand what Fayree expected them to abandon her.

"And exactly what kind of danger am I in? What cryptic secrets are you so worried about me discovering? And one that note, why should I believe anything you have to say?" she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Fayree huffed slightly, giving the marine a stern look.

"I can't tell you any of that. It's risky for me to be meeting with you as it is. I'm not exactly asking anything of you that you aren't already doing. It's simple. Watch your back. Don't trust the Spartans." she hissed. Catherine tapped her foot thoughtfully.

"You still haven't answered all my questions. How about you start giving me some useful information. What exactly are you?" she asked trepidatiously. Fayree chuckled softly in response.

"I'm not too different from you really." she answered cryptically. Catherine was becoming frustrated with how secretive this woman was .

"And I suppose you expect me not to turn you in?" she asked.

"I personally, haven't committed any crimes. And your team has likely already acquired Mr. Estrefi and his evidence. You have no need of hanging on to me. If anything. It would be an unwise decision." Catherine was no fool, she recognized a threat when she heard one.

"I'll take your word for it." she said pushing her glass towards Fayree. "Now if you'll excuse me, I don't drink on duty."

As John left the tight security of the base, he thrust a hand in his pocket, pulled out the keys to his transport and sighed. Estrefi and his evidence had been left to a court judge, while the information he'd gathered on the possible threat of Forerunner technology was passed off to the UNSC personnel it concerned. Estrefi would likely get off with little more than a slap on the wrist, and a small part of John was released with the thought. He didn't condone murder, but Estrefi had probably saved a lot of lives with his meddling. He'd received word that the cleaning worker with a concussion had awoken, and he'd taken the opportunity of few doctors around to question her. The woman had been insane however, going on about a creature that appeared human but wasn't having attacked her in the house, but he put it to the morphine in her system. He was now left to pick up his team from their packing, and return to Infinity. Upon pulling up to their temporary housing, Frederick began to load his duffle into the trunk.

" Everyone ready to head out?" he asked. Fred gave him an exasperated look.

"She's been quiet since we returned. Did you say something to her?" He asked as John exited the vehicle.

"I'll speak to her." he said, ignoring the question, as he wasn't sure if it was out of genuine curiosity or meant to start an argument. He made his way to their dorm, only to find her sitting outside on the patio. She was starring off into the distance before her, chin resting on her knees. She must have heard him approach, for as he neared she spoke up without turning in his direction.

"How'd the investigation go?" she asked. He took a seat next to her, slowly lowering himself to the ground.

"Case closed. There were a few complications, but the authorities will handle it. We're due to return to Infinity." She nodded numbly, stiffening ever so slightly.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, gravely voice going soft. She shook her head, letting her bangs fall to hide her eyes. Something was wrong. He didn't need to be a slip space scientist to know that. "Liar." he accused dryly. Maybe she was upset about the case. He hadn't bothered to ask of seeing dead people bothered her. However, she hadn't seemed affected earlier. Maybe it had simply taken a while to set in. Even Linda got a little queasy at seeing dead civilians. The accusation seemed to make her uncomfortable, and Fayree's words rang in her ears. She didn't trust Fayree, but did she trust John? Internally shaking her head, she decided she didn't want to think about that.

"I'm tired. I don't usually use analysis this often." she said, standing quickly. Another lie, John noticed.

"Maybe you should rest on the trip back then." he said, tone returning to that of her commander, rather than her friend. Her eyes narrowed, but Catherine's mouth stayed shut.


	9. Emotional Encounters

Blue Team departed quickly from their mission, no longer needed due to the unexpected turn of events. When their dropship arrived back on Infinity, Catherine had been suspiciously quick to separate herself from the Spartans. Her door had been repaired in their absence, and much to her vexation, her walls had been repainted. She made a mental note to thank Lasky for it's speedy repair. She made an executive decision to stay clear of her team until their next assignment. For the time being, she was giving herself an assignment. Fayree. She needed to know what the hell that had all been about. She'd contacted the base's science department a few hours after their return, and asked for the data on the blood samples to be sent to her. After hours of sorting through it, she was able to come to only one conclusion. The DNA patterns closely resembled Dr. Halsey's modeled ones for project Forerunner. Only there was one difference. The ones they'd found in the samples weren't artificial. It seemed the Didact wasn't the only recently active Forerunner. Once hat discovery was made, Catherine was quick to abandon her curiosity on the subject. She wanted nothing to do with the Forerunners. There was a reason the project had been canceled, leaving her as the only byproduct. She stayed locked away in her dorm for the following few days, feeling a deep sense of paranoia. It didn't settle well with her that she was in some sort of supposed danger regarding a Forerunner. However, Catherine soon found herself being dished a rude awakening

"You really ticked him off this time." Phelicity's unexpected voice made her jump, and she looked to the AI's form maliciously.

"Is there no AI equivalent to knocking?" she asked.

"You have more important things to worry about right now. If I were you, I would start planning your apology right now." the AI said frankly. Catherine shook her head in confusion.

"What apolo-" A rapid knock on her door cut her off, and Catherine groaned. She had a feeling she knew who was at her door. "What does _he_ want?" she complained aloud. With the press of a button, the door slid open, and Catherine found herself face to face- or face to chest rather- with the expected figure. 'Ugh.'

His posture was rigid, and she could practically feel him glaring at her through that visor of his. It struck her hard, and were she still a young, knock-kneed rookie, she might have actually felt threatened. But that's not who Catherine was, oh no. Her resolve was steel, and her fear nonexistent.

"Can I help you." she began, knowing she was likely about to get flak for something. He forced his shoulders to lower, as if mentally preparing himself not to go off on her.

"You- Where do I even start." he began. Ah, apparently she had done _a lot_ of things wrong. You should have turned in a mission report two days ago at the latest. Command is now on my back about why I had a marine present for an operation and there's no account of it. I can understand needing a day to recover from military work, but _three_ days with no medical leave waiver is not acceptable." Catherine only huffed. She'd forgotten to submit her report, but it wasn't as if she had anything to report that Blue Team hadn't. Like hell she was going to mention Fayree, or ther fact that there were quite possibly Forerunners running around killing of traitors for the UNSC.

"I...was going to send it in. I got distracted." she trailed off. He clenched fist at his side, forcing himself not to blow off steam at her. Just because Command hadn't been nice to him about the situation, didn't mean he had the right to be rude to someone else.

"That doesn't excuse being absent for three days." he explained. Catherine shared openly at him for a moment, as if she didn't understand what language he was speaking.

"Did we have a mission or something?" John felt his eye twitch.

"We do more than operations." he stated. "We have mandatory training sessions, we review previous missions and look for consistencies to be fixed, we have on ship assignment-"

"That is a _really_ long list, so I'm gonna stop you there. As fun as….all that sounds...I don't exactly like to go hunting down work, so generally, like a normal person, I wait until someone tell me to do something. And ya know what's really funny? I don't remember being told to do anything! Crazy right?" she said, a false smile present on her face and offensively chipper tone in her voice. He was silent for a moment, and Catherine could have sworn she heard him growl.

"You are completely uninformed of basic military procedures. You are a complete and utter mess, and you're going to get yourself into trouble if you don't educate yourself on what's expected of you." he informed her. Catherine raised a brow at the statement.

"Look at you, captain obvious! That's what I just said! Hmm except for that part where you put the blame on me, yeah that ain't quite it Chief." It occurred to Catherine that her provoking tone may not have been a good idea a little too late. He didn't speak, didn't even give her a second look as he grabbed her by the collar of her shirt and hefted her right off the ground, as if she weighed no more than a small child. "Hey!" she cried in surprise as he started down the corridor. She gained looks of amusement as she flailed above the ground, briefly catching Thorne's eye in the hallway. He shook his head at her in amusement, but quickly turned away when the Chief sharply turned his helmet in the Spartan IV's direction.

"I swear if you don't put me down this instant-"

"You'll what?" the finality of his dark tone sent a shiver up her spine as he threw open the door to the gym and promptly dropped her on the floor. He was absolutely done with her attitude, and unwilling to play nice anymore. "Get up. We have training, and you have three sessions worth to make up for." Catherine didn't have to be a genius to know he was upset with her. She stood to her feet, catching Fredericks eye as she did so. He shook his head at her dejectedly. What was that supposed to mean? Had he expected more from her? If so, that was his mistake.

The redhead quickly found that despite how quiet and collected the Master Chief was, he could be one heck of a drill sergeant. As promised, he made her do extra of every exercise the team completed, be it push ups, laps, or whatever else. Her body was more than a little sore half way through the workout. She hadn't realized that the Spartans trained themselves so thoroughly, but even Linda and Kelly found themselves breaking a sweat. Had the other Spartan IIs not also appeared as exhausted as she was by the end of their workout, she'd have suspected he was going hard on her on purpose. However, it appeared that this was the normal limit for the team, and so she refrained from calling him out. It was after her last set of planks, that Catherine finally found herself giving in. She hadn't eaten in a solid day, and now that she had worked herself to the bone, she realized that may not have been the best idea, as a queasy feeling overtook her stomach. She found herself unable to rise off the floor, and when the Chief called for her to the sparring ring, it took every ounce of energy she had left to peel herself from the floor. Linda stood patiently in the matted area, awaiting her opponent.

"Ah, hell no." she grumbled under her breath. She was _not _ready for combat. "Shouldn't we have done this first?" she whined.

"The point of exercising first is to train you mind to fight despite fatigue. You're not always going to be running on full energy in battle." Linda stated gruffly. Catherine muttered under her breath, dragging herself towards the sniper. John watched her approach, arms crossed in front of his chest, as Kelly sauntered next to him.

"You know this isn't going to go well, right?" the brunette supplied. She agreed that Catherine had to learn her lesson, but she also didn't want to see the redhead get hurt. Frederick, who had been quite up to this point, decided it was time to speak up.

"Linda wouldn't hurt her. Bruise her up a bit maybe, but she's not like that." he defended. Kelly sent him a glare.

"Believe me I'm aware, but don't forget, both of you, that we don't know the limitations of what we're dealing with." she hissed under her breath, as Catherine took hre position opposite Linda. She didn't bother with analysis. She was tired, and ready to lose this fight so she could go take a shower. Knowing full well that Linda wouldn't strike first, she made the starting move, making a hit to the other woman's shoulder. She wasn't stupid enough to believe the contact happened without the Spartan's consent, nor was she surprised when a jab was quickly returned. She was moving slower on purpose, but as her blows increased their speed, she found it impossible to keep up with all of them, and began to simply roll out of the way entirely.

"You're not trying." Linda accused softly, just loud enough for the redhead to hear.

"Well neither are you." Catherine replied with a shrug, keeping herself in a guarded stance. Linda's next jab had Catherine dodging sideways, unfortunately right into her awaiting kick that landed on the girl's stomach, sending her to the floor on her rear.

"And that's a KO." Kelly said, rolling her eyes. Linda approached the shorter girl, and offered her a hand to her feet. She groaned, waving her off and slowly rising, and exiting the ring. Her insides were rolling around, and she felt as if she were on the verge of puking. Kelly and Fred entered the ring as she and Linda exited, and Catherine was tempted to curl up on the floor and die.

"Are you alright?" the sniper asked as she hobbled towards the exit, and Cat couldn't find the strength to manage an answer. She had to pass the Chief to get to the door, and she had a feeling she'd need the last of her strength to get through that encounter. Sure enough, he stopped her as she passed.

"And where do you think you're going?" he asked, blocking her path. She could definitely feel bile rising in her throat but she pushed it down.

"Somewhere that isn't here." she answered stiffly. He didn't seem satisfied with the answer in the slightest.

"The team hasn't been dismissed." he stated firmly. She could tell he wasn't going to give, and her stomach was not going to calm down any time soon, and so in the heat of the moment, she let gravity just happen, tipping her head forward as she let the bile fall out of her mouth and splash onto the ground. He was silent, completely and utterly silent. Linda took a cautious step back, eyeing the puddle that she had more or less hurled onto his armored feet.

"Congratulations captain obvious, you've been promoted to Commander Barf. I think we're done here." she finalized with a grimace, turning around and stepping towards the door, or more actually ambling on her weak legs.

It had been a loong, long time since John had felt true rageful annoyance with anyone. The only other time he could remember being so displeased was as a child, and his anger likely hadn't been as warranted as it was now. If he had to describe the feeling, he'd have said it was like boiling something, that something being his very frayed nerves.

"Do you have _NO_ sense of decorum? Really?" she paused, glaring at him from the doorway. "You are the biggest damn mess I've ever seen in my life, why the hell are you like this?" he questioned, but she was silent, not offering an answer. Why was she like this? It wasn't that she meant to be a problem, she just...was.

"Chief-" Kelly began.

"No. No somebody needs to say it. Why are you such a reckless trainwreck? Did your parents not give you any damn attention as a child? Do you just act out because you want people to look at you, or do you really just enjoy messing things up?" She stiffened slightly, and the Master Chief knew he'd hit the nail on the head.

"That's not-"

"Oh no, I think it is." he interrupted, approaching her, and leaving a trail of what was left on his boots. "I think that nobody too the time to invest in you, and now you just run around like a child, doing whatever the hell you want." he accused. She took a defense step back, suddenly feeling just how small she was. "Is that it? They never cared enough to teach you how to do anything right, so you go around making messes hoping people will make up for the attention they wouldn't give you? Let me guess. They were the classic military family, sent you off to the academy, and you've been trouble ever since. Sound about right? Is that why this is such a sore topic? Because it's your _excuse_?" Catherine's eyes had narrowed into slits. She knew she had made him mad, and she knew she hadn't been the best soldier in his books, but his accusations stung nonetheless, opening up wounds that had already scarred over. "Well-"

"I don't have to take this from you." her grim tone caused him to pause, and his eyes settled on hers, glassy and infuriated. Crap. He had taken it to far. "I don't have to take _anything_ from you, and if you don't _like_ me, you can go tell Lasky all about it. I'm sure he'd be happy to do the _savior of humanity_ a favor and assign me." she said stiffly, waltzing out the door with a newfound hatred for her commander.

Blue Team was silent, looking elsewhere as if they hadn't just been present for the little spat. John felt a sigh leave his chest. He didn't want to give up on Catherine, or any soldier for that matter, but she was so out of his depth...either way, he needed to speak to Lasky. Hopefully they could come to an agreement on the situation.

Catherine was familiar with hatred. It was something she'd encountered in herself time and time again. She hated people, she hated families, she hated herself. But most of all, she hated being alone. Somehow it seemed that was all she was anymore. Alone. No matter how many times she was shoved onto someone else, she was never accepted, never understood. As she stomped down the halls towards the washroom, she had to wipe her eyes as her vision became too blurry to see where she was going. She preferred to let the tears fall, pretending that they weren't even there. John's words had hurt, but not in the way he had intended them to.

"What happened to you?" Catherine's head tilted upwards until a somewhat familiar sight entered her vision.

"Thorne...hey." she mumbled, shoulders dropping in a defeated manner.

"You look like you've been through the ringer today." he said, bending at the waist to bring himself eye level.

"You could say that. It's Catherine, by the way." she said, trying her best to hide the fact that she'd been teary eyed.

"Huh, I knew miss secretive would come around. Listen, you look like you could really use a shower, so how about you meet me in this mess hall in twenty, and we can talk about this some more." he offered. Her heart melted ever so slightly at the suggestion, but the last think she wanted to do was indulge someone she barely knew on why the Master Chief hated his newest recruit.

"That's really nice of you Thorne, but I'd rather just distract myself." she declined.

"Well distractions are my specialty! I've got some buddies that would love a new face at the poker table, c'mon that's an offer you can't resist." he said cheesily. Catherine found herself chuckling, nodding in agreement.

"Alright, poker it is. But prepare to lose."

"I can't do this anymore." Lasky set his paperwork on his desk, sighed, and folded his hands on his desk, giving the MAster Chief his full attention.

"And why is that.?" he asked, having a feeling he already knew the answer.

"When she's not finding new ways to get himself killed, she makes up for it by making trouble. She was absent for three day Sir. She mouthed off when I approached her about it. She _vomited_ on me out of spite. It's like training an animal more than an actual person." he couldn't help but rant.

"She's not a Spartan Chief-"

"I'm well aware. I'm practically dealing with a civilian at this point." he said in irritation. Lasky simply shook his head and chuckled. "What about this is so funny to you?" John asked in exasperation, and Lasky sighed.

"I just find it comical...you were the one person whos skin I was sure she couldn't get under." he stated. "Catherine is...a damaged individual. She doesn't think on the same platform that normal people do. You have to understand that she grew up in a harsh world, one where people didn't exactly treat her much differently than she treats others. She doesn't understand that it's not right, just knows that people keep telling her so. The fact that you're only just now coming to me about this says that she's trying." he explained. John nodded in understanding, his anger turning more to a simmer of curiosity.

"I don't like to reprimand people. It's not my strong suit. But with Catherine it seems that's all I ever do." he admitted. "I probably shouldn't have nailed on her about her upbringing though." Lasky blinked in confusion, before leaning forward in his seat.

"What exactly did you say?" he asked. John bit his lip crossing his arms loosely.

"I…" he paused, realization dawned on him. "I've done something very wrong...haven't I?" he asked, already suspecting his answer.

"She didn't tell you." Lasky sighed in disappointment. Now John was worried, his mood taking a full one eighty.

"Tell me what?" LAsky shook his head.

"No, I promised her I'd never say anything to anyone. Too many people have broken her trust and I won't add myself to the list. But I think you need to take a trip through her personal service records." John found the recommendation strange, but agreed to give it a look. Lasky had refused to resolve anything until he did so, and the Chief found himself heading straight for Linda, hoping she could get him access to what he needed.

"That was rude, what you did today." John watched as the auburn haired Spartan sat on her bunk, scrolling through data as she carried out his request.

"Well I'm trying to fix it now." he defended grimly. She eyed him for a moment, before offering him the tablet in her hands.

"That should give you what you're looking for. Between you and me, I don't want to know what you find. I want her to talk to us on her terms." John wasn't sure if it had been a reprimand, or a warning. Either way, he nodded tersely at her words, and left. And so there he sat, closed off in his own bunk, scrolling idly through the redhead's data. She had enlisted at sixteen. That bit of information was a surprise to him. ORiginally drafted for project Forerunner until it was unsuccessful, she was repurposed when she proved to be the only living candidate after the completion of project Forerunner.

Wait, the only one? She was the only candidate to survive the procedure? Just how dangerous had it been? Had doctor Halsey even know what she was doing? It didn't make sense. But at the same time, it did. John had Blue Team. HE had a family, and people he knew he could count on. Catherine had a list of names that had never made it to the field. That would have stung immeasurably if John himself had been in her position. But then another question plagued his mind. What kind of parents gave up their sixteen year old daughter to a project in it's preliminary stages? As John read further, he found himself becoming even more confused. There was no family listed, and no sir name. What confused him the most, however, was that the information wasn't even on file. USually there would be the big red word _redacted_ with information that wasn't to be shared, but the information seemed to be missing entirely. He selected the photo, and opened another tab on the device. There was one other option that he didn't want to think about. Cross referencing the photo with that of the missing persons system brought up not one, but seven cases. All of the same person. There was a photo, and a first name that undoubtedly matched the redhead on his team. However there was yet again no surname. Only a number sequence. Six out of the seven cases were labeled as resolved, and stated that the missing child had been returned to the family, however, upon closer inspection, he realized that every case listed a different family name. There was no way that Catherine belonged to seven families, or that there were seven different Catherine's with the same code and identical looks. And then it struck him, and John felt utterly stupid. What he was looking at was the record of a child in the foster system.

'_Did your parents not give you any damn attention as a child?'_

Had he really said that to her? Had he honestly been so cruel?

'_I think that nobody too the time to invest in you'_

The Spartan rubbed a palm over his face. He'd just chewed out an orphan for...being an orphan. It was no wonder she was so standoffish. Seven homes? She probably saw Blue Team as yet another foster home. If nothing else had been resolved, John had made a very important decision. He couldn't give up on Catherine, not now. If he did, he'd just be continuing the cycle. He'd have to roll with the punches, and maybe even make allowances more often than not, bt throwing her out like trash wasn't going to fix her, and a nagging voice in the back of his head told him that if he didn't, no one else would. First things first however, he needed to apologize.

She had truly done some remarkable things during the past two missions, and he had to admit she could be one of the best if someone took the time to show her how. That, he supposed, was his number one priority now.


	10. Help is Here

Poker did her mood better than Catherine had been expecting. She didn't win by any means, but hearing the other Spartan IVs laugh at each other and talk amongst themselves like normal marines was comforting. Thorne had been happy to see her actually show up, and she wondered if he'd expected her not to. She hadn't exactly looked well earlier, so she wasn't too surprised.

"I fold, my hand has been crap from the start." Hoya, whom Catherine had been informed was the most reckless of Thorne's team. Demarco laughed like thunder at the other man, and Catherine found herself grinning at the sound. She wished she was on Thorne's team. She actually got along with these people. But then a our thought hit her. When push came to shove, she still wouldn't trust them. Things would remain a surface friendship between them, and she had a feeling they would take just as much offense as Blue Team.

'Grass is always greener on the other side.' she thought. A sound behind her caught her attention, and Catherine whipped her head around to watch as Linda and Kelly set their trays on the table behind her. She knew for a fact that they could have done so silently, and that they had only made noise because they wanted to. Well, that was likely the closest to an invitation she was ever going to get.

"I'll see you guys later, my team is here now." she excused herself, picking up her tray and taking a seat next to Kelly. She felt the most comfortable with the brunette Spartan, and she also seemed to regard Catherine with less distaste than the others.

"Feeling better?" Linda asked, voice so quiet she wasn't sure if she'd actually asked the question. Catherine nodded.

"I bounce back fast. Although I hope the Chief had fun cleaning his shoes." she said, a sugary tone in her voice that covered the malicious intent of her words. Linda chuckled softly at her response.

"You sure took him by surprise." Kelly said. She had something close to a smile on her lips, and she found herself offering a similar look.

"You know, he's really not that bad. John doesn't like to be so….forceful. You're just very good at getting under his skin, and he's still recovering from...a lot of things actually. He's usually more patient." Kelly supplied. John's actions had been somewhat inexcusable, but he wasn't truly like that, and Catherine needed to know that. If she could change her views on him, then it was up to the Chief himself to uphold those views. If she could convince Catherine to be better, John would fall into line as well.

"Well I don't it matters what he's _really like_. He's not fond of me, and frankly the feeling is mutual. Linda shrugged, sticking her spoon into the food on her plate.

"I have a feeling that's going to change." Catherine raised a brow at her.

"Oh yeah? And why's that?" she asked dryly. She didn't believe that he had any intention of making things between them better.

"He spoke with me earlier." she said. Catherine waited for her to continue, but she didn't.

"About?" Linda shrugged, unwilling to answer. Catherine huffed, and finished off her food. Kelly and linda ate quickly, and after sharing a look with each other, the pair excused themselves quickly. Catherine found their hasty retreat odd, until the sound of a tray setting to her left sounded. 'Oh hell.'

"You're looking better." she was extremely tempted to glare at him, but whenever she did that an argument usually began.

"I hadn't eaten. I just needed a meal." she said tersely. He nodded, digging in slowly to hi own meal.

"Don't tell me your as bad as Frederick." he mumbled, and she raised a brow.

"What's so bad about Frederick?" she asked. He was annoying, but he and the Chief seemed to get along fairly well from her perspective.

"He likes to play russian rulet with his dietary practices. When he gets caught up in a project he likes to see how long he can go without stopping to take basic care of himself. He's passed out on more than one occasion." Yeah, that definitely sounded like something she would do, but she thought it best not to tell him that.

"I didn't think Spartans pass out." she mumbled, having witnessed just how tough the 'super soldiers' were.

"I eat the same food to body mass ratio as any other normal person. I can guarantee you our bodies don't react much different to lack of food than yours does." he argued. Catherine supposed that explained the large amount on his plate. She had no doubt that the man sitting before her could pack away a spare tire.

"I can imagine." she said, not bothering to hide the distaste for conversing with him that became evident in her voice. He sighed, placing his utensil down and shifting towards her.

"Look I-"

"Don't. I already told you not to apologize." she interrupted. He crossed his arms over his chest, uncrossed them, then crossed the again. He needed words. Words were...hard.

"I was wrong. About you mean. I spoke with Lasky-"

"Good, I'll probably be out of your hair so-"

"No." He stated quickly, and she blinked in surprise.

"No?" she didn't understand.

"I didn't ask him to assign you. I asked him what the hell I'm supposed to do." he explained. "I have no intention of giving up on you, you're a part of this family now and there's no taking that back. I made a decision to accept you into this team, and I'm not gonna take that back just because you aren't what I expected." she was stunned. He'd expected as much. Her green eyes were wide, lookin at him with a sort of bafflement.

"What? Why?" she sputtered. "You don't have to keep me, hell I don't want to stay!" she argued. The Chief forced himself not to take the answer personally. He'd been expecting the response, but it still wasn't what he wanted to hear.

¨Believe me I am well aware of that. You've run from, what? Seven? Homes. I get the picture.¨ he said, and was ever so slightly surprised when her look of irritation tuned to one of horror.

¨How do you know bout that?¨ she whispered, so quiet that he knew he was the only that possibly could have heard. ¨How did you find that. There's not a single file that has that information." she demanded, raising her voice ever so slightly.

¨I ddnt need the UNSCs records.¨ he stated. ¨But that isn't the point. The point is, Blue Team isn't another foster home. I'm sure it seems like it from your perspective, but-¨

¨I don't need to know what you _think_ my perspective is. I don't need your help, your pity, or your team.¨ she stated, picking up her tray as she prepared to leave.

¨Well they need you.¨ Catherine paused, knuckles turning white as she gripped the tray in her hands. ¨I haven't seen them so...themselves...in a long time. I don't like a lot of your ways, or more accurately I don't understand them. However….they're fond of you. You're a change of pace, one that we're admittedly due for." he sounded sullen all of a sudden, and the fiery tempered woman found herself sitting down again. "You think we aren't a compatible team, but that's exactly why we are." he continued.

"I don't agree with you-" she stated firmly. "But humor me. How so?" Catherine wasn't particularly interested in being persuaded, but she'd amuse herself with his point of view for now.

"Simple. You don't see us as a threat." he almost sounded...smug? No, something else.

"Should I?" she asked sarcastically, raising a brow at his answer.

"No. But they do." he said, guestering around the room with a sweep of his eyes.

"Because they're ignorant." she argued. Oh. She paused as the smallest grin spread out on his face. Now she saw his point. They weren't normal. She was a lot closer to it than they were, and yet, she saw them differently than other outsiders. She saw them as just as normal as everyone around her. She saw them as human, something others struggled to do. That was why he wanted her to stay with Blue Team, to act as a bridge. She was introducing his team to a life outside the cold shoulders and fearful faces of normal marines, and she was doing it in style.

"So let me get this all straight." she drawled pinching the bridge of her nose. "You want to keep me around for...let's call it 'social therapy' because I'm not a sociopath like you, and I don't avoid you all like the plague? Wow, I'm flattered." she stated bluntly. She was most certainly _not _flattered. She expected the accusation to get a rise out of him, but instead, his grin morphed into a smirk. "What?" she demanded.

"Nothing, nothing." he dismissed, returning to his food. Her eyes narrowed, and she watched as he piled food into his mouth, which she noted could hold twice as much as her own.

"Don't play games with me." she grumbled.

"It's funny that you would say that." the Chief began slyly. "Because that's all anything is to you. It's one big game, and you win by pushing as many people out of your life as you can. You see it as pushing players off the board, when in reality, your just sacrificing your pawns, and other lower players, and slowly losing the game. And one of these times-" she watched as as plucked a leftover meatball of her plate. "You're going to lose your queen." his analogy was a solid interpretacion, and Catherine found herself slightly offended he'd read her so well.

"I can take care of myself. Life isn't chess." she argued.

"Chess is war simulation. You're fighting a losing battle Cath. I'd suggest you stop throwing your players away. After all, the queen can't win the game if she's the only one on the board. And if the queen falls...the game is over." his tone was no longer teasing, and he didn't need to look at her to know he had hit her where it hurt. Fred had been right. She'd been toeing the line for a while now, close to giving up, but not yet having found an opportunity that justified it enough.

"I've been on my own for a very long time, as you now know, I think that's evidence enough I'll be fine. I wouldn't still be here if there was anything to be concerned about." she finalized, collecting her now empty tray and making her way towards the door.

"A game doesn't end with the first wrong play." he called after her. Because that's all this was. A game. And Catherine's survival was the stakes.

"I'm willing to take the risk." she claimed, for some reason feeling the need to have the last word. He shrugged, as if he was giving up the argument, and Catherine shook her head, pushing the tightening in her chest away. She didn't need him, or his team. She'd never needed anyone.

'They need you.'

No. Alice had needed her, and she'd failed her. She didn't want to fail anyone else, didn't want anyone else to fail her. But then why was she here if not to help people? She joined the UNSC to save lives, but did it stop there? She thought of Linda and Kelly. Their concern, their pleasant company minutes before. The Chief spoke as if there was something wrong with them all. She didn't know much about the Spartans, but...having had it pointed out to her….something was off about the group. Were they really in need of her support? _Her_ of all people? Kelly's words thrummed in her mind, and Catherine wondered for the first time what exactly he was recovering from.

She wanted to ignore. She wanted to appear distant ad untouchable, but it had become evident to her that there was someone...no _more than one_ that needed help, and she seemed to be the only person who cold give it. As she exited the mess, and found herself walking back to her dorm, Catherine found her anger melt away. He was trying to help. He had good intentions. Her vision began to blur, and Catherine blinked the moisture in her eyes away.

No. She was going to help Blue Team. That was it. This wasn't a self healing session, or an attempt to make a family, a home here. It was basic compassion. Nothing more.

"Is she coming this time?" Frederick asked as his team waited patiently in the briefing room for the arrival of their little red haired member. She had exactly ten minutes before she would be considered late.

"Fred, don't go looking for a fight." Kelly scolded.

"I'm just saying. She was talking about leaving yesterday, or you kicking her out more specifically." he said, pulling John into the conversation.

"If she's here, then she has a chance. If not, she's likely meeting with Lasky about a transfer, and she's probably already made a decision."

"How can you be ok with that?" Fred asked, suddenly taking the offensive. "You're just going to let her slip past us?" he asked, anger seeping into his tone.

"We have no right to intervene unless she's willing. It's her life."

"Not for long! At least not with the way things are going! She's suicidal John."

"Fred!" Linda chastised. It wasn't fair of him to make such accusations when she wasn't around, and Linda found herself taking offense on her behalf.

"Don't Linda. You know I'm right. It's the elephant in the room. She's done nothing but try to kill herself since she got here. She's just doing it creatively!" he snapped.

"You're just mad because she wasn't interes-"

"I'm mad because no one is concerned Kelly!" the room was silent for a moment.

"We're all concerned Fred." the group looked towards their sniper. John hadn't exactly expected her to speak up, but he was pleasantly surprised. "But Catherine hasn't accepted us as her family. It's not the same with her as if it were one of us. The further we push, the farther she's going to run. She needs something stubborn and unmoving. Something that isn't going to chase her, but will still be here when she comes around." Linda explained. "But most importantly, she needs us to have a little faith in her." Fred sighed in frustration, but nodded in agreement. Kelly's eyes settled on the clock, and she felt an ounce of disappointment. There was hardly any time left

"Should we…. start the briefing?" she asked. The Master Chief followed her gaze, and crossed her arms over his chest. He could invest two more minutes in his hopes in the redhead.

"N-" There was a patter of footsteps before the door slid open, revealing a Catherine that looked nothing like the one he had seen the day before. She stood taller, a purposeful look in her bright green eyes that he had yet to see since meeting the redhead.

"I'm not late." she said, gaze boring into the four Spartans before her.

"You're not." he confirmed, holding her gaze. Linda, Kelly, and Frederick were silent. "We didn't start without you." he added. What he wanted to say however, was slightly different.

'_We didn't give up on you.'_

'_Not yet.'_

'_Not yet.' _


	11. Change Is a Chance

Something had changed. Linda didn't know what it was, but there was something new about the redhead that had her ever more found of the misfit. Little by little, she'd begun to worm her way into the Sniper's consistent routine. She was either with Kelly, the IVs, or Linda herself. Horace, according to the more talkative soldier, had been shipped out, and she was condemned to be without her best friend, as she had so complained when she joined her meditation a few nights ago. She hadn't missed a single session with the team, and it was baffling. Her bickering with the Chief had by no means subsided, but Linda could see it becoming a fond sort of think between the two. Some of the time at least. There were instances where Catherine had been very close to snapping, and instances where she had done just that.

However, she seemed much more….alive. More like a living being than a shell of a person that once was. And yet, it wasn't deep. The relationship she had built with her and kelly was genuine, but skin deep. She didn't trust them with her personal business, and kept herself from being the topic of discussion.

It was the sort of think that relzed Linda, and made her anxious at the same time. She wasn't sure if this was an improvement, or if Catherine had simply reconstructed her walls, making them more durable than ever. John hadn't attempted to get closer to the redhead, and she had regarded him similarly. Frederick had tried….and failed. She seemed not particularly fond of either of them. Linda could understand that. Frederick had only recently stopped pinning for the woman, and John...well, their relationship was a strained mix of hatred and appreciation. The more she thought about it, the more she found it odd that John of all people would remain at odds with someone. Maybe he had found something in her files that had stalled his determination to reach out to her, or maybe he knew what he was doing better than Linda could perceive from the outside. Either way, the entire team was eager to see the pair get along better. And thus, the trio found themselves concocting a plans. When the two were in as good a mood as they could get them, the three would silently excuse themselves from meals, or meetings when they were no longer needed. And little by little, it began to work. Catherine had gone from more or less hating the Spartan, to at least being on good terms with him. They were learning to be civil with each other. They were by no means friends, let alone family, but Linda had hope. Which was odd. She couldn't remember the last time she had been hopeful about something. It was a light feeling, not unlike a weight being removed from her shoulders. She supposed the entire team felt the same. It was relieving to see her come around, even if she had a long way to go.

"Linda? Are you even listening to me?" the sniper cracked an eye open and looked at the redhead across from her.

"Frederick took your ankle out?" she asked for clarification.

"Yeah! And it hurt like hell! He's so rough when we spar, I swear." she muttered.

"He's no more rough than Kelly and I are." she pointed out.

"He does it on purpose!" she defended, and Linda sighed in irritation. She liked the girl, but she could talk up a storm about the most trivial things.

"He's trying to make you a better fighter." she said, closing her eyes again

"Well I don't like the way he does it." Lina cracked a blunt grin.

"Then train with the Chief." Catherine felt a shiver run up her spine.

"No." she stated firmly. She had come to dislike John less, but she didn't want to find herself in the ring with him. He had figured out to personalize her, and it made her increasingly uncomfortable. She'd thought he was strong, brooding, and stupid. Apparently he was a psychiatric mastermind who could read her like a book. This was why she didn't like people knowing what she was. It gave them an edge, and she hated that about herself. What she found strange about him though, was that he had yet to mention his findings to the others. They seemed completely unaware, and her only explanation was that he didn't have all the answers. Part of her expected that he was just waiting to get the full picture so he could tear her down completely. She didn't know why her anxiety was so adamant that this man was out for her demise when he'd made it plainly clear that he was trying to do nothing but his job, which was the exact opposite of put her six feet under, be it physically or emotionally

"Then don't complain about sparring with Fred." Linda quipped. The real mental workout of her meditation these days way to keep from snapping at the redhead. She wasn't annoying, Linda was just easily irritated when she was interrupted n the calming of her mind and body.

"You could spar with me instead." she supplied, and Linda felt a sense of warmth flicker under her skin that the redhead was now comfortable enough with her to ask such a favor.

"I could." she agreed. "But you should still make an effort to better your relation with John. He's going to be required to give an assessment on your fighting skills at some point. Might as well prepare yourself now." Linda pointed out, much to the redhead's displeasure.

"Everyone keeps saying he's not that bad, or he just wants to help. That doesn't change anything though. I don't trust him." she explained, and Linda sighed. She was apparently not going to have a chance to truly meditate with Catherine in the room.

"Alright. Let's look at this rationally. What has he done to warrant you distaste." she prodded. Catherine tried not to laugh, knowing full well there was a list.

"We met when he ran me off the road in the rain, and he refused to give me a ride unless I disclosed private information about project Forerunner." She explained.

"That's it?" Linda asked bluntly. Catherine let out a low chuckle.

"Oh no. That's just the first offense. Secondly, he set me up in the gym with Fred, then he broke my door, was a jerk about my absence, which was really his fault by the way, and the icing on top, he went peeking through...personal records." she listed, finding her displeasure with the Spartan building as she spoke.

"And what has he done to warrant your forgiveness. Be fair Cat, your partially to blame for his bad mood, and indirectly his treatment of you." Catherine knew what she was doing. She was trying to help her organize her mixed feelings based on facts and assumptions, and differentiating between the two.

"Well he didn't court martial me, even though I suspect it would have been acceptable to a few times. And he did return the file I gave him." she admitted. Linda frowned ever so slightly at her.

"That's all you've noticed?" she seemed almost disappointed in Catherine, and the redhead felt a bolt of offense.

"Well what would you have liked me to pick up on hmm?" she dared. Linda moved from her sitting position in front of her as she stood to retrieve a water, before taking a seat on her bed.

"How about the fact that he didn't give up on you? Or that he left the choice to stay to you. And let's not forget that he was more concerned with getting you medical treatment than finishing the investigation. He cares about you Cat. He's trying to let you in, all of us are for that matter, and it's taking a toll on the team more so than you realize. Maybe if you tried caring about us more than yourself, you'd find yourself hating this situation a lot less." Catherine felt as if she had been stung. Linda had a way of making heartfelt words come across as either blunt, or harsh. There was no lilting tone, only rough, harsh truth.

"I'm only still here because the Chief thinks I'm beneficial to the team. I don't know what that's exactly supposed to mean, but I'm here because I decided to be here for you all. Although Chief doesn't exactly seem like he needs me around for anything. At least not much more than comic relief when I mess up." Catherine argued. Linda gave her a blank look.

"Let me tell you a little bit about our commander Cat. We were all conscripted young, but John was immediately thrust into the position of a leader. He had to train harder than the other Spartans, had to be more mature than the rest of us, and he couldn't let things slide. He had to set an example before he'd even achieved it himself. Blue Team has been the closest thing to a family for all of for a long time now, but for quite a while, he didn't have us." Catherine, listening to her teammate as she moved, relocated herself beside the Spartan. "He spent the majority of the war without us, hell, there were times where he didn't know if we were dead or alive. The Spartan program was rough on all of us, but we had each other. The war though...John was alone." Catherine had heard the stories. She knew full well that he had been the one man army that took down the covenant, but it had never occurred to her that he hadn't wanted it that way.

"I...suppose you have a point. He's not evil by nature by any means." she agreed. "And I don't doubt that his actions up to this point haven't been entirely his fault. However, I'd hardly say he cares. From the standpoint of his position as team leader maybe, but individually, I don't believe so."

"You're reflecting the actions of other people onto him. I know it's not easy to let that go, but you'd both benefit from giving him a chance. John is a valuable asset to have in one's corner, if nothing else provides incentive to try forming a bond." Linda offred. Catherine rolled her eyes at the suggestion.

"Yeah, when I start counting on the big bad Master Chief to fight my battles satan can just go ahead and let hell freeze over." she replied sarcastically.

"I'm serious Catherine. Give it a try."

Catherine didn't want to attempt what she was about to do. She would much rather live in her closed off world, where people couldn't touch her. It was funny to think that it had barely even been weeks since she'd been willing to meet the Chief part way, not halfwaay by any means, but it was still better than where she sat now. She had disliked him a little at first, grown to find him somewhat tolerable, then reverted to hating him entirely. However, when Catherine had analyzed herself a bit deeper, she realized that the rationality of her distaste wasn't sound. She had let Fayree get to her, and her wariness of the Spartan had turned to confirmed distrust when he made his slip up in the gym. But it wasn't fair to judge him by that. Not only had he not know why the topics he'd brought up were sore, in a roundabout way….he was right. And she had felt oh so called out by it. Now, after a week of self reflection imposed by Linda, she found that it was time to make amends. He was right in his observation that she was unorthodox, and she was far too easily angered.

Previously to encountering Blue Team, she'd been floating by, drowning in her unhealthy ways. But now there was someone present consistently enough in her life to recognize the need for an intervention, and as all troubled human beings did, she had reacted venomously towards the intrusion. But now that she had had some time to think on it, and had flushed Fayree's opinions from her mind, she no longer felt the need to be at odds with him. But now she stood before the Spartan's dorm about to do something she really didn't like to do. She knocked once, knowing his augmented hearing would likely pick up on it. He seemed, surprised when the door slid open, revealing Catherine in all her sheepish glory.

"Please tell me you're not here because I now have to write an apology letter to someone." he mumbled, voice raspy and almost sounding drained. She faltered, slightly, and John sighed. "Oh no."

"Actually, I'm here because I was wondering if…." she paused suddenly. Why did he look so bedraggled? "Are you...alright?" she interrupted herself, giving him a once over that spoke of her judgement on his appearance.

"I take it you haven't heard then." he chuckled softly. "The council is paying us a visit, and due to Mr. Estrefi's little escapades, they've asked that we up the security. Which in turn requires my correspondence with the Captain has been requested to patch any possible holes in security." he explained.

"I'm gonna go out on a limb and say that took you all night." she said. He nodded in confirmation. "Well, I _was_ going to ask if you wanted to join me for lunch, but I have a feeling a nap is higher priority on your list right now." she teased. "That or a coffee."

"I don't drink coffee." Catherine's playful smirk turned to a gaping mouth.

"Because your insane or…" she goaded

"Because it's a dependent." he supplied.

"Food is a dependent. Do you not eat either? Oh wait, I already know the answer to that question." he raised a brow at her invitation to banter, but didn't turn it down.

"Food has nutritional value. Coffee is anadicted substance that causes the body to go into a state similar to a high before crashing its energy levels-"

"You know what the difference between you and I is?" she interrupted, placing her hands on her hips. "You are literally no fun."

"Did you come here to insult me or invite me to lunch?" he asked bluntly, a hint a smirk on his lips.

"Hmm, ya know, I don't know. I mean, that was a whole two minutes ago before I found out you were against coffee." she joked, an impish grin directed his way. "However, I think I can make allowances. The Spartan rolled his eyes at her.

"I'll meet you there. I have a few other things to handle." he said, sounding somewhat resentful.

"Fair enough." she said, feeling somewhat satisfied with herself. One argumentless conversation down. A whole lot more to go. But this was a start. "Don't be long, ya know, if you don't want me to eat out the mess before you get there." she half threatened.

"I'd like to see you try."

Catherine hated when the mess was crowded, not because she despised the ruckus, but because people were just all together rude. There were the line cutters, the mess makers, and the ones with no sense of personal space, shoving into others around them. Catherine found it to be particularly annoying that when people left, they couldn't even leave something as clean as when they came. Heck, she was literally raised in a dirty orphanage on the side of the road, and they at least taught her to push her chair under the table. Days like this reminded her of being in sector three. The resounding clank as the seat next to her was taken had Catherine looking up to meet John's equally annoyed gaze. "You gotta love boisterous marines, right?" she said sarcastically.

"Isn't there a recreational deck? Half of these people aren't even here to eat." he pointed out. He was right though, as some people were simply present to mingle.

"You say that like you never use it." she said in amusement. "So the Master Chief doesn't drink coffee, and never goes to the recreational deck. Do you realize your profile is that of a sixty year old grandpa?" she asked. He sent her a warning look, and she snorted. "Oh don't tell me I hit a sore spot." she goaded.

"I don't like crowds. Or people. Or loud things in general." he stated. She was tempted to tease him further on it, but she understood what he was talking about. Those were all things that long term veterans weren't exactly fond of, and considering what she knew the war to be like, she couldn't actually blame him.

"I can level with that." she chuckled softly. He gave her a look of suspicion, as if he was just waiting for her to make him the punch line of a joke. "No, really. I get that. It's hard to be a party person when you spend most of your time in combat." she expounded.

"Try most of your life." he said dryly. "Speaking of which-"

"Ya know, I wondered how long it was going to take you to ask." she stated, and he gave her a look that spoke of his annoyance at being interrupted.

"How did you manage to get into ONI so young?" he asked. "Your file said sixteen." he stated.

"What? Jealous I have an edge on your training?" she bantered. His jaw went slightly slack, before he bit his lip. The Chief's expression was somewhere between mortified and amused.

"Yeah, we'll go with that." he agreed. Catherine could sense fishiness all over his reaction, but she chose not to comment. "Really though. How'd you get in?" he prodded.

"Technically I'm not supposed to say. Dr. Halsey pulled strings for me. But then-"

"She was arrested."

"And the project was shut down. Didn't It matter though. I was too old for the system by then anyhow." she said with a shrug.

"So you just...stayed?" he asked.

"Well yeah, what was I supposed to do? Go home? Reality check, I don't have one. This-" she said, gesturing around them. "This is home." she stated. He seemed somewhat curious about the declaration, and Catherine could hear his response coming almost immediately.

"If this is home...then what counts as family?" Now that..that was a tough question.

"Family...is a convenience. For some people. For others it's just...tiring. It's easier not to have one so I don't." John felt a surge of disappointment with her answer. Not only had he been hoping that she at least had someone to go home to, he'd been hoping that she had coined up with Blu Team just enough to understand that the prospect of a family was right before her, or at least chosen to accept it as one. Clearly they hadn't crossed that bridge yet.

"What about you?" she asked. He blinked in confusion.

"What?" he asked.

"What does the Master Chief consider home?" she asked. John, who had been idly flicking his fork through his fingers, set it down on his plate. How was he to explain this to Catherine? He didn't want to lie to her, but just how far could he stretch the truth.

"Blue Team is home. We're what eachother has." he answered simply. Catherine was unsatisfied with such an answer.

"Where are your parents?" she asked, taking a bite of her meal. That was a good question. He didn't quite believe the lies they'd been told about their families as children, but he didn't have proof of anything different.

"We were separated after I joined the UNSC." he explained. Catherine's eyes settled on him, and John felt oddly weighted under her gaze.

"I'm sorry, have you looked for them?" John wanted to say yes. He wanted to tell her that he had spent years searching for them, never having given up on a reunion, but the truth was, he hadn't. He didn't remember them, heck, he didn't even remember his full name. Not only that, it had seemed futile to find them. He had a job to do, a job they could never know about.

"No. Never saw any point in it. Did you..."he was treading dangerous ground with his next question, but it wasn't as if she hadn't already asked the same of him. "Did you ever look for yours? Was that why-"

"Why I ran away all the time? No. I uhh, I didn't want to see them. I was abandoned when I was ten years old. I don't know what happened, I've had amnesia about it all since I woke up in the hospital. They couldn't find anyone or anything connected to me. DNA scans couldn't even ID me. It was like a just kind of...poofed into existence. I've had all sorts of theories growing up but...I never really wanted answers." her tone grew somber as she spoke, and John found himself unsure of what to say. Part of him felt sorry for her. Another felt slightly angry on her behalf. But most of all, as usual, he was curious. For her to be untraceable was practically impossible, and yet...she was. "Speaking of which, I wanted to talk about that. I..don't want the rest of the team to know." she said.

"To know what, exactly?" He couldn't possibly see why she wouldn't want to share her background with anyone else.

"This, all of it. I don't like to tell people, I don't like the judgement. People look at you differently when they realize you aren't like them." she said softly. John thought her viewpoint on the matter to be completely absurd.

"Cath, they're not going to think like that. If anyone would understand that it would be us." he argued.

"Please, Chief." she said, and he realized this wasn't a disagreement he was going to win. He sighed in indignation and offered her a nod. "Thank you." he huffed in response, and she offered him a sheepish smile.

"Linda mentioned you needed another training partner as Fred was...ill suited." he began, and Catherine paused as she was prepared to continue her lunch. No. That little medler…

"Did she now? I suppose I mentioned it to her a few times." More like many times.

"I'll be in the gym later. If you're feeling up to it, your welcome to join me." he offered.

"I'll have to think about it. I've been enjoying the change in schedule concerning training." That change being the lack of availability between the members of Blue Team. And she was likely going to have even less time in the gym when the council arrived. "But I could be persuaded."

AN: Well I hope you guys are liking this so far. I've had to change quite a bit of it from how I originally wrote it, but it's been fun developing

Characters. To those of you who reviewed, thanks so much for your support. There's so much more to go, and I can't wait for you guys to read

it.


	12. Previous Partners

Sometimes in life, all it took was one little pull to nudge a person in the right direction. Be it physical, or mental persuasion, something always seemed to pull Catherine in a very specific direction in life. Sometimes it felt as if she had little control over anything in life, and found herself acting out just to be sure that she herself could disrupt the pull. It scared her, leaving her with a lack of assurance in the solidity of her own existence.

"What style are you most familiar with?" Catherine watched as the Chief stretched his arms above his head as she sat atop the shelf holding up the many barbell weights, confident it would hold her as she swung her feet back and forth.

"All of them." she answered, picking at a loose string in her gym pants. The gym was relatively empty for the time being, and Catherine preferred it that way. He raised a brow at her as he approached the training mat.

"Really now? In that case I won't have to go as easy on you as I'd thought." He said almost sardonically, but she caught a hint of humor in his tone. She had been wary about accepting his offer, but it was a chance to further her skills, so she found herself indulging.

"If you're going to give me recovery vacation, you won't hear me complaining." she jibed in response, sliding off her seat to join him in the ring.

"Ha, don't make me laugh." he dismissed blandly. Quite frankly, Catherine didn't think he _could _laugh. He was so serious all the time. He had a notable dry humor that he tended to use when he wasn't making an obvious effort to focus on the conversation before him. She supposed it wasn't a trait he even realized he exercised.

She watched as he went about wrapping his knuckles in a thick, grey cloth, they type she was used to seeing professional boxers use. When he was clearly ready to engage, Catherine slid from her perch and stood in front of him on the black sparing mat, the material dipping under her feet. "First person to land ten successful strikes wins." he explained. She nodded in agreement to the terms, and shifted into a stance prepared for a fight.

She'd watched his matches with Frederick, and learned that he tended to strike first, so when he sent the initial jab, she fainted to the left. Out of curiosity, she took the time to analyze the trajectory of his fist, and realized with slight amusement that he'd aimed for the space right above her. He wouldn't hit her. Part of her was offended, and the other simply amused. This was either an exercise in control, or a mere game to him. She was not however, disappointed. It was easier to shoot and evade larger targets, but close combat with an opponent who was much larger than her whom she could not in fact shoot, with the added task of not letting herself be beat to a pulp, was a different sort of challenge. It was one that required her to practice not only her form, but also her speed. Unlike him, she didn't have to hold back though. She could use all the force she needed to, and he likely wouldn't feel much of it.

Her first strike was a kick just above his ribs, but he was quick to send a light, quick strike into her shoulder blade with his elbow, sending her to the ground. She followed the momentum, rolled, and used what was left of her speed to pull herself back to her feet. One to one quickly became became one to two, and the numbers seemingly increased against her as minutes passed by. It soon became easier to dodge and wait him out than get close and risk him adding another hit to his score. When she finally found her opening, she dove in to make a jab at his sternum, but the close proximity gave him the opportune moment to lock his foot behind her knee, and sh fell roughly on her back, crashing down to the mat with a solid thud. The motion sent her down so fast that her head was a blur of red in the Spartan's vision. Catherine's vision, however, was more or less swimming, and she neglected to get up from her sprawled position.

"I believe your supposed to tuck your chin-"

"I know how to fall!" she snapped, sitting up at a speed that made her dizzy enough to want to lie back down. "That was an illegal move." she accused pointedly.

" Are _you_ lecturing _me_ on rules? Don't tell me you're also hypocritical." he chided, tone even and face a mask of indifference. But those bright blue eyes of his held a mischievous glint didn't go unnoticed as he offered her a hand.

"I don't trust you enough for that." she said, hauling herself to her feat without the offered help. He shrugged, the muscles under his shirt rippled with the action.

"When the council arrives tomorrow, I'm assigning you to the escort." he said, changing the topic before she could comment further on his bit of foul play. Catherine decided not to comment on the fact that he hadn't actually allowed her to lose the match.

"Is that a heads up or a warning?" she asked cheekily, but he didn't rise to the bate, not even sparing her a disapproving glare.

"Behave yourself. You're representing more than yourself now." he said, neglecting to answer her question.

"So it's a warning." she clarified. A grin plastered on her face. The Chief crossed his arms and gave her an exasperated look in response. It was one thing that she acted like a child, but the fact that she was unaffected by the idea of being treated like one was something he couldn't understand. Even when he himself had been one, it was more of an offense to be parented by other personnel when he was quite capable without an overseer. Catherine however, acted as if she expected to be put under extensive authority just for the thrill of disobeying it, and he couldn't wrap his head around it. If this was what she was like now, he couldn't possibly imagine what she had been like as an actual minor.

"You must have been an interesting child to raise." he stated bluntly, only to regret the words upon using them. "Damn it." he muttered, knowing full well he was beyond an apology. Much to his surprise however, she snorted.

"No, no you're right. I was an awful child. It was more fun to be the bad kid than the good one." she admitted. His eyes narrowed slightly, and Catherine felt her shoulders become slightly heavier under his scrutinization, making it a harder task not to fold in on herself.

"Were things always that way?" he asked, pulling his gaze away from her as he picked up the clear bottle of water and electrolytes. She was silent for a moment, and he chanced a glance her way to see if he had upset her this time. To his surprise, she instead seemed puzzled by his question. Then, as if a puzzle piece had suddenly been placed in her mental picture she straightened.

"They didn't tell you, did they." she realized, and John blinked in confusion.

"What?" he asked, straight to the point.

"I just-" she paused to chuckle ruefully at the situation, and the Spartan couldn't help but feel discomfort brewing in his chest. "I figured it would have been in the files, or you'd have already tracked it down somehow…."she blundered on, almost awkwardly amused. "I have amnesia." she said tapping two fingers to her skull. "I woke up under a bridge. Like...a hobo or something. Nobody could figure out who the heck I was so they took me to child services. There wasn't a single file on me. No birth certification, nothing. Like I just sort of poofed into existence." she explained. That...wasn't normal. As far as John knew, that wasn't even _possible._ The more he thought about it, the more confusing the prospect became.

"Do you think you were abandoned? Or-"

"Kids don't pop up out of nowhere Chief. Somebody brought me into this world so somebody had to have left me in it. Who cares how it happened." she interrupted, before he could rattle off theories she had already heard. Theories she had already wasted time contemplating and looking into.

"You're not curious?" he asked, the disbelief in his tone poorly hidden. She cocked a brow upwards at the question, as if she thought the answer obvious.

"Why would I waste my time trying to understand what happened to people who didn't want me?" There was no malice in her voice, just stern resolve that the Spartan truly hadn't been expecting.

"Because you don't know if that's true or not. You have no clue what happened." he argued.

"Exactly." she agreed with a laugh. "It's probably some screwed up situation anyway. I count myself lucky. If I don't remember it, it's probably because it's better that I don't." John couldn't help but think that was a morbid way of considering the situation.

"But what if you were happy?" She hadn't been expecting the question, but that wasn't to say it wasn't one she'd already contemplated.

"You know what Chief? You're right! Let me just drop _everything_ I've worked for and go but down a fairy tale that investigators have already spent month looking into! And when I find it and it changes _**nothing**_ I bet I'll feel _so_ much better. Let me just reminisce on everything that I lost like some classic tragedy and go back to the dung hole that my life has been since I woke up, except then I'll actually have something to compare it to so I know just how messed up I really am. After all, comparison is everything in life, isn't it." she panned out sarcastically. "I think not. Some things aren't worth thinking about." John watched as she irritatedly picked up her gym bag and turned towards the door, the tightness in her shoulders clear as day. This wasn't a new topic for her, nor was it one she liked to indulge in.

"Cath, wait." he huffed, and to his surprise, she actually paused for him. "You're right, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even brought the topic up." he admitted.

"Glad we're on the same page then." she answered bluntly. The Spartan grimaced slightly at her reply.

"Agreed. It won't happen again." he promised her honestly, and slowly but surely, the tension fell from her posture.

"Thanks." she offered gruffly, and continued towards the door. She didn't understand why, but every encounter with the Chief left her feeling stripped to the core. He brought to light her rawest topics, and tore her apart in an effort to understand her. It was almost dizzying to watch him piece together things, and connect dots that no one had ever really managed to grasp before with such ease. It was minutes later as she washed the sweat from her par off her skin that she came to a sudden realization under the warm water of the showerhead. His constant unraveling just might prove to be her permanent undoing.

Whenever John found himself forced out of his armor for long periods of time, it always felt good to get back into it. Between the familiar tingle beneath his skin, and the buzz in the back of his head created by the oxygen system, he felt as if he were not merely safe, but in a place of familiarity. It was a sort of comfort that he willingly indulged in. As he watched _the Starport _crew and passengers board _Infinity_, he couldn't help but feel like a glorified security guard. The councilmen were barely distinguishable from the other occupants of the ship that had docked with them an hour prior, but John still managed to pick them out.

"Pretentious pricks." John looked down at his much shorter teammate upon her muttering, and crossed his arms. "I've worked for most of these people individually, if any of them were working with insurrectionists I could probably guess who from this lot." Catherine supplied

"What kind of work did you do for the council?" the Chief questioned. She shrugged, the metal plating sewn into the shoulders of her combat suit clanking softly with the action.

"Mostly recon. There are a lot of people in powerful positions that the UNSC keeps an eye on. Not all wars happen on the battlefield." she explained.

"So, politics?" he asked for clarification.

"If you'd like to call informational theft politics then by all means, yes, I was involved in politics." she answered dryly.

"Aren't there AI's for that sort of think?" he asked as the last of _Starport_ occupants field onto their ship, and the pair took up the back of the party, escorting them from the hanger.

"A lot of Insurrectionists that are close to the UNSC keep to more secure means of communication, like solid documentation. To be specific, I kept an eye on the parties that were more media influential, and we're funding insurrectionists 'under the counter' per say. My job was to intercept messages sent between parties suspected of supporting the rebellion. The point was to mix up communications, making their efforts a lot less effective." she explained.

"As much as I'd like to hear your tactics on such assignments, I have a feeling that's all very classified." John mused, and she nodded in affirmation. "But while we're on the topic…" he trailed off.

"You want to know who to keep an eye on?" she asked, a sly grin on her face. He tilted his helmeted head in her direction, almost contemplatively, and nodded.

"Assuming you have more than rumors to offer, yes." Catherine let out a low chuckle.

"Councilman KiChen is close friends with a weapons company CEO that supplies both the UNSC and other companies that have suspected involvement with insurrectionists. He's not very high up the totem pole, but he has a controlling mentality and tends to view himself as a figure of power. Based upon personal involvement and personality, he made it on my list of suspects about two years ago." she informed the Spartan, gesturing with her eyes to a short, dark haired man towards the front of the group. "Then there's others like Councilman Hegens, Rrofly. They're equally involved in supporting earth colony activists for other movements, and it wouldn't surprise me if they're funding the insurectionis groups too."

"Doesn't sound like solid evidence." John said gruffly.

"It's not. But it warrants suspicion." She argued as the group split and loaded onto three separate lift systems. Catherine followed him onto the leftmost lift, eyeing Linds and Fred on the rightmost, who had been at the head of the group. They didn't comment over COMs on her Intel, but she knew they could still hear her. "None of them are a top priority however. Councilman Perdema should be regarded with the utmost suspicion."

John raised a brow at the statement, and waited for her to give her reasoning as to why she had such an inclined dislike for the man. However, she was oddly quiet on the subject, and John chose not to comment. He'd heard the man's name mentioned briefly in a few mission reports, but he hadn't met him in person. Admiral Hood had spoken of him before, and had neglected to comment a personal opinion. That alone warranted caution, as the Admiral tended to overpay credit where it was due. If Hood had nothing to say for the man, John supposed wariness was somewhat warranted. Once they reached the upper deck, the council members were handed off to Fireteam majestic.

"Doesn't it seem a little overly cautious to have Spartans on guard duty?" Linda asked as she and Frederick approached the redhead and green armored Spartan.

"You heard Cat. I wouldn't he surprised if we're more of an intimidation tactic than security." Kelly said over COMs she was accompanying a group of marines on their routine check of _the Starport_.

"I could believe that." Catherine agreed bluntly. "I mean, these guys aren't exactly worth a hit. Well, I take that back, some of them might have it out for each other." She mumbled the last bit under her breath, and Fred shook his head at her.

"UNSC politics are crazy." He said as the group started in the direction of the elevator.

"Why do you think I was _excited_ to go back to the front lines when my stint working with their pompous asses was up." Frederick snorted at her response and knocked her shoulder playfully.

"The horrors you must have seen." Kelly said sarcastically as she finally caught up with the group. They were scheduled to do a routine check of the route the council would take to their ever so important meeting with Captain Lasky concerning the events of Blue Team's most recent mission, a discussion the Spartan team would not be privy to, before they were free to attend the mess hall for dinner.

"So this whole mess with the murdered council members, how exactly are they going to clean it up?" Kelly questioned the redhead. Catherine snorted.

"More like cover it up. And I'm not really sure. I guess they'll have him removed from the roster seeing as he's a proven traitor, and maybe throw in a routine background check or two." Catherine supposed as the group loaded onto the elevator. As long as she didn't have to trifle with Perdema, she didnt care what the verdict was. Working with the council was always messy business.

"Background checks huh? Think anyone on your list will pop up as suspicious?" Fred asked, and Catherine briefly wondered why she seemed to know the most about the inner working of the council.

"Depends on whose people are doing the digging." She answered.

"As per usual with ONI." Linda added bluntly. She hadn't had much to say about the topic until now.

"Exactly." Kelly muttered. The doors of the elevator closed, and a moment of silence passed before Catherine let out a sigh. She didn't understand how the Spartans could be so silent. Her nerves had to be truly strained for her to be that silent.

The team completed their sweep quickly and efficiently, and Catherine was unsurprised to find nothing amis. She was eager to get the task at hand finished, as her stomach had begun to growl, and she was now thinking fondly of food. However, a job quickly done and meal to follow wasn't what she got. What she did receive, was a summoning to Lasky's office.

"Did I do something this time, or-" she began, standing awkwardly in front of the Captain's desk. He interrupted her with the raise of his hand.

"Catherine, have a seat." Lasky's shoulders were practically up to his ears, and when her eyes locked on his, she felt a chill run up his spine. He seemed apologetic, as if he already knew what he was prepared to say was going to displease her. "I think you've of all people should have already figured out what's really going on here." he started, and the redhead groaned internally.

"This isn't really some big meeting for the council is it? You're trying to figure out who else is working with the insurrectionists, or what's left of them." she voiced, and Lasky nodded in agreement. Things were clearly in shambles higher up the ranks, so it was no surprise that her presence had been requested seeing as she didn't fit into the higher ups, or the lower ranks of the totem pole.

"I know what I'm about to say is asking a lot of you-" Catherine audibly scoffed, leaning back in her chair and propping one foot on the edge of her seat.

"Come on Lasky, you know me better than that. You're about to ask me a favor, and I'm going to name my price for you instead of turning you down outright because your my friend, now can we skip the formalities?" she asked, crossing her arms. Lasky chuckled at her and nodded, and folded his hands atop his desk. She was amusing in her own, mouthy sort of way.

"Alright, name your terms. But nothing that requires me to break the law." he stated firmly. A broad grin spread across Catherine's face, and she bit her lip, feigning the look of a child who had just tricked their parents into allowing them to do something they normally wouldn't.

"Shore leave." her broad grin didn't falter when Lasky put his head in his hands.

"Absolutely not, you're supposed to be acclimating yourself to a new team, I'm not sending you on a vacation." he argued.

"Come on! I'll even do groundwork! Whatever cleanup the UNSC needs done! I don't get assigned planetside often and my last case of it was for a murder of all things! I'm still getting the smell of bodily fluids out of my clothing." she defended. "You could send Blue Team with me." she added, an edge to her voice that suggested she really wanted what she was bartering for. Lasky let out a soft huff.

"I'll see what can be done. Now then, you're not going to like this, but are you ready for your mission briefing?" he asked, taking on a tone that suggested it was time to get down to business. Catherine shrugged in response. "I'm assigning you to Perdema." the redhead shot up in her seat, bringing herself upright.

"What? Why? Why would you do that?" she asked frantically.

"Calm down, I'm assigning both you and Spartan 058 to be his personal escorts once the evening meeting is finished. I'd like you to see what you can dig up from him about his most recent political dealing, and see if you can make any connections to our murdered councilman, or the insurrectionists he was working with." the captain interrupted. "I know you have a history working with the man-"

"History doesn't even begin to describe what Perdema and I have." she groaned, rubbing her temples. But if Linda was going to be there, it would undeniably be easier to deal with the man's presence. "You had better pull through with that favor for me." she said, standing to her feet. "I need dinner, Linda and I will report to the meeting deck within the hour." she promised.

"I knew could count on you." Lasky teased as she made her way to the door. "Dismissed 005." he said.

"Yeah, yeah. Formalities to you too captain." the door slid open, and Catherine sighed as she took a moment to lean against the wall, breathing in and out slowly. She didn't like Perdema, and she knew better than to get mixed up in his business, but if she had an opportunity to take him out, she was sure going to take it.

"Rough talk?" the familiar baritone was a calming sound in her ears, and Catherine let it wash over her as she completed her breathing cycle.

"Linda and I-"

"I'm aware. Are you-" his eyes locked onto hers, and she wanted as he leaned his bulk on the metal door frame across from her.

"I'm fine." she finished when he trailed off. "Work isn't always fun, unfortunately." she said, pushing herself off the bulkhead and moving in the direction of the mess hall.

"Unfortunately." he agreed, following in step with the smaller soldier.

"Don't tell me you waited for me." she said, her green orbs eyeing him from the side. She had still yet to figure him out, and yet he was already well on his way to understanding her. That fact _should_ have made her feel the tiniest bit of apprehension. But it didn't.

"I did, but not on the basis of company. I wanted to interrogate you on the subject at hand a bit." he admitted, nodding to an officer as they passed him in the hallway. John sometimes felt that a salute was too much, but officers deserved their recognition regardless.

"Highly forward there. Interrogate away." she replied casually. He seemed to contemplate his next words carefully, something that Catherine found rather amusing. She could never tell if he had something inflamator to say, or the social gap was that bad that he had to put genuine effort into interaction. Sometimes it seemed to be both in her opinion.

"You didn't mention any dirt on Councleman Perdema." he began, and she groaned internally. This was bound to come out at some point, but if Perdema was finally going to get caught, she wanted to limit her involvement with him to the extreme. "I know that look." he scolded. "You already don't want me to bring it up. Why is that?" he questioned bluntly. Catherine let out a sigh that sounded more like a hiss.

"I worked with him for a few months while I was still an ONI agent. He has a lot of dangerous connections that would get him booted from the council, insurrectionist or not, but that's not why I'm not fond of him. I...saw things, things that if he knew I saw would probably get me silenced. Permanently. Like, end up in a ditch with me head missing sort of silenced." she added the last declaration at the obvious look of confusion on his face. His icy blues seemed to widen a touch, then revert back to a carefully guarded neutrality.

"And you have yet to report this because?" he prodded.

"Because i don't have proof. Which makes me as good as dead if I said anything. They aren't going to believe a previous ONI agent of all things, they're paid liars." she sprouted softly.

"And how do I know that's not exactly what you are?" Catherine bit her lip softly at his response.

"I'd argue with you on that, but I think I'd rather you keep that mindset considering the people we have to work with for the time being. Everyone should be a lier as far as we're concerned." she offered. "But if my word is something you'd even consider taking at this point, I'll have you know I'm not a lier. People who lie are afraid of consequence. You already know that's not something I concern myself with." she said pointedly, resting her hands casually inside the deep pockets of her pants. He huffed softly in amusement.

"I can't argue with that, now can I I?" he mused. "But i do think you're not giving me the whole truth." he explained. She seemed to take the matter personally, and she hadn't seemed as cocky as usual, offsetting him greatly.

"Don't worry about it, I can handle myself." she assured him. He paused for a moment, hand gripping her shoulder at lightning speed, also stopping her in her tracks. She had forgotten that he cold move so quickly, and the sudden speed took her by surprise.

"With all due respect, I don't care what you can handle. This team as a whole comes before any sole individual." he scolded softly, so softly that Catherine was sure he was the only one to have heard it. She nodded slowly, mulling the words over in her head.

"Perdema always had a bit of an...attachment to me. He-" she paused, looked around their vicinity for stray passerbyers. "Well he asked me to marry him." John was silent for a moment, as if it took him longer to compute the information than it should have. He removed his hand from her shoulder at a slow, leisurely pace.

"I'm sorry?" he asked.

"Me too." the redhead muttered, and the Chief shook his head.

"No. Why-" John took a moment to clear his thoughts, and redirect his thoughts in a whole new direction.

"Huh, I think I see smoke coming out of your ears, having a malfunction in there?" Catherine asked, on brow quirked in amusement. He gave her a disapproving look, and she chuckled. "He asked me to marry him and run away from the UNSC. He wanted me to join the Insurrectionists cause with him, although he didn't verbalise such, I could tell that was what he intended." she explained. She glanced up at the Spartan, and nearly laughed at how pale he looked. "I didn't give him an answer, left on a ship for Harvest an hour later, an was convinced I'd never have to see him again. " John wasn't sure how to respond to such an explanation, and instead swallowed thickly.

"May I be honest with you?" Catherine nodded, curious of what he had to say. "That's…." Disgusting, worrisome, disconcerting. All words that came to mind, yet didn't accurately describe the chilling feeling in his spine.

"Gross? Yeah, I know." she deadpanned, continuing her walk to the mess hall. She really needed to get something to eat, as the next few hours were about to become very tricky.


	13. Unclear Accounts

Linda was respectfully silent as she stood beside her shorter teammate. The whole ordeal seemed to have left her exceptionally tired, and her shoulders were slumped as they waited for the release of the council. It wasn't long before the doors slid open, and people began to filter out. A man with salt and pepper hair came into Catherine's view, and she approached cautiously, Linda in tow.

"Councilman Perdema." she greeted with a nod. Linda noted how he seemed surprised to see her, a fond smile breaking out on the man's face. If Linda were to guess, she'd peg him to be late forties, but she couldn't quite tell.

"Catherine! My dear, it's been a few years. Just look at you." he sounded fond, and Linda couldn't help but feel the air shift when he took her combat gloved hands into his own, placing a kiss on her fingers. To her credit, Catherine didn't wince at the action, nor did she pulled away. She was rooted firmly in her place, unmoveable.

"Has it? I've been so busy I hardly feel as if time has passed." she offered, head coced to the side. She caught Linda's eye, reading the suspicion the Spartan had for the man, and offered her a sweet smile, one that was much unlike her. Linda understood. "We'll have a little time to catch up, Spartan 058 and I will be escorting you to your quarters. How long are you to remain on Infinity?" she asked, praying that his answer would be a short length of time.

"Another forty eight hours at most. I must say I'm looking forward to my time here, now that I know there's better company." Catherine wanted to gag. He was so forward that it made her toes curl. The man before her was a snake, but his interest in her was quite genuine, something that quite possibly disgusted her even more. She could have been mistaken, but she could have sworn Linda was just an inch closer to her after he made the declaration than she had been before.

'_Yep, definitely don't like him._' she thought. Anyone who put a Spartan n edge was not to be trifled with. With the straightening of her spine and a solid breath, Catherine gestured to the hallway before them. "Shall we."

John wasn't surprised to be summoned to the bridge that evening. He was partially expecting it, and when his eyes landed on Catherine's somewhat stiff form, he felt a slight tinge of disgruntlement at the idea of what, or rather who, had her upset. "You got something?" he asked, and received a nod.

" Lasky is running a few things through the system, we'll likely be sent out in a few hours." she replied.

"You look anxious." he observed bluntly.

"I just want off this ship as long as he's on it. I did my job, now it's someone else's problem." she answered gruffly. He nodded in agreement, and as an act of reassurance, gripped her hand gently in his own.

"I'm not going to ask you to do anything that makes you uncomfortable." he began.

"I hear a but coming at the end of that statement." she said forebodingly. His lips set themselves in a downward ark, and he shook his head.

"No. There's no buts. I won't ask anything like that of you. Period." Catherine let her eyes settled on his as he dropped her hand, where it fell to her side once again. The reassurance was unexpectedly calming, but she still found the gesture odd. "Linda and I had a word about it, and we came to a decision. If an investigation is opened concerning Perdema, I'd like you to stay as far from it as possible. I'd rather not have an open investigation on yo considering all your blank spots in the reccords." he said. Catherine's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She wasn't displeased with what he had just told her, but something about it unsettled her.

"Linda told you what happened?" she questioned. He nodded, unsure of the quirks of her lips and tilt of her brow. He wasn't sure if she was upset or not. "Why?"

Why? John thought that was fairly obvious. "She's concerned for your well being." he answered, feeling almost defensive.

"That's sweet and all, but what does she gain from it? What's the alterior motive here?" she asked, as if it was already obvious. John's eyes narrowed in concern.

"Not everyone is out to us you Catherine." he informed.

"Bull." he shot her a glare at the use of her language. "I'm sorry, I just...have more experience with the darker side of humanity. People are capable of bad things." she offered.

"You're not wrong." he agreed. "But that's no reason for you not to trust us…..do you trust us?" he asked, giving her a look of contemplation. She seemed flustered for a moment before answering him.

"It's nothing against you all." she assured him, and he sighed in exasperation. "But people are bad, that's a fact I have to keep in mind."

"But there are good people too. Fred, Kelly, Linda. I can't speak for Horace and Cassandra, but they strike me as good people." Catherine bit her lip and nodded as the door to Lasky's office suddenly slid open.

"Alright you two, I've got a retrieval mission, and Catherine, I think you're going to enjoy this one"

"I'd just like to point out that I am not, in fact, enjoying this." The darkened streets covered in an icy glaze were bare, and for good reason. It was unimaginably cold, and Catherine found herself chilled to the bone through her thick leather coat, it's length nearly teaching her ankles, and hood lined with a furry material that thankfully kept her ears warm.

John merely grunted in response, unsure of how to answer. It was cold, yes, but he didn't see much reason in commenting on it. It wouldn't magically change the climate if he did so. Blue Team had spread itself out for the mission at hand, with Catherine and John assigned planet-side, and Fred, accompanied by Linda, keeping a close eye on the council, while KElly did what digging she could into ONI's classified knowledge on councilman Perdema. However, much to Catherine's displeasure, they're location was less than desirable. "I've never been to Russia. I've seen little of Earth." he offered. The transport they'd taken to the ONI's hold for prisoners of war had picked them up from the spaceport shortly after their arrival, and Catherine had been shivering as she stepped into the vehicle.

"Really? I've been all over the Earth. Just about very skirmish I had some part in." she said, looking out the window at her side as architecture flew by. John thought about the claim for a moment, then posed a question.

"You were at New Mombasa?" he asked. Had she seen the flood? Did she have the same nightmares he did? He had never truly recovered from his run in with the parasite.

"You mean when the covenant attacked five years ago? Right before the war ended?" she asked. John nodded in affirmation.

"No." She'd read the reports, heard of how he'd teamed himself with the enemy, and won against unthinkable odds. She wished she could have witnessed it.

"I heard about it. Would have liked to have been there actually, but at the time I was on one of the colony worlds, cleaning up insurrectionists. I've had many, many dealings with the covenant, but it wasn't usually what I was purposed for." she explained. John couldn't help but think that was a good thing.

"A better use of your skills in my opinion." the Chief offered. Catherine's fingers trailed the glass of her window, leaving finger streaks of heat where there was once frost.

"I wanted to fight the covenant though." she said, surprising him slightly.

"Why?" she pulled her attention from the glass, and looked at him with those deep green eyes.

"Because I felt like I was supposed to. When I first set foot on one of the halo installations, I felt like I _belonged_ there. Like it was made for me. It never made much sense, but I wanted to know more about the alien technology, the history, all of it. It seemed to call me to it."

"Halo is a weapon. It's not some mystical calling." he said, attempting to pull her out of the ridiculous dream she'd conjured, but she simply shook her head.

"But somebody built it. And I bet they built more than Halo. Can you imagine what the Forerunner's must have been like?" as soon as the words left her mouth, Catherine thought of Fayree. There was no longer a doubt in her mind as to what she was. Catherine had met a Forerunner. It explained how she had known that Insurrectionists were meddling with Forerunner technology, and how she'd been able to track down who was responsible for it. But were there more of them out there? They had been an empire once, a great one. But now they were merely ruin spread across the galaxy. Or were they? "Do you think the Didact was the only active Forerunner?" she asked suddenly, only to realize that despite the fact that she'd been looking at him for minutes now, she had yet to realize how grim his look had become. Oh.

"I hope not. The Didact was dangerous. The Halo's nearly wiped out every species. For a species that supposedly held the mantle of responsibility, they sure left a legacy of destruction behind. They lived under an imperial peace." he was shutting her down here and now on the subject.

"But you met the librarian. Lasky said requiem destroyed itself shortly after the incident with the composer, and that what was left of her was lost forever. Why did she let that happen?" she had so many questions today. John wasn't sure if she was trying to distract herself from the cold, or trying to get on his nerves.

"She's not all powerful. If she was, she'd have stopped the Didact herself." he answered gruffly. She'd have stopped the Didact, and Cortanna wouldn't have had to die. Catherine was silent for a moment, having read an emotion beyond the answer that John had not meant to openly portray.

"I'm sorry." she offered softly. She'd made him mad, and not in the usual way she went about doing so. "I was just curious." she offered.

"Find something less dangerous to be curious about."

It was often dark in Lasky's office when most of the ship's crew had gone to bed, and the shift change took place. Whether he was there or not he kept the lights low, hoping to avoid a visit from anyone with an after hours task for him to complete. He'd been scrubbing through one particular file for hours, unable to find exactly what he was looking for. There was so much Catherine had left out of her mission reports on Perdema, so much that he had _told _her to leave out on the basis of her safety. If there had only been proof of the councilman's dealings, these issues could have been resolved years ago.

A knock sounded on his door, and the captain sighed disdainfully. "Roland." he said simply.

"I've got it Captain." came the reply from the ship's speakers, and the door slid open. A tall, salt and pepper bearded man entered, and Tom sighed in irritation.

"What can I do for ou, councilman Leng?" he asked as the man sat himself before the captain.

"I'm afraid I have some alarming news. It will need to be dealt with, immediately.

"We just want to talk to you, I know he's kinda intimidating, but I promise he's not here to rearrange your face." Catherine began. The man they'd pulled into the heavily guarded interrogation room, with it's cold steel walls, may as well have been seething at them.

"I Don't have anything to say to you. You people have no understanding of the plight of the colony worlds." he spat. Catherine gave him an unphased look, and sighed.

"Look, I don't have time for the whole good cop bad cop routine-"

"We're willing to make it worth your while." the Chief cut in. "That is, if you're willing to negotiate." Catherine hadn't been expecting that from him, but if he seemingly had a plan she supposed she could play along to it. After all, she was intrigued to further analyze exactly what the Spartan was capable of pulling off.

"What is that even supposed to mean?" A small smile tugged at the corner of John's face, as he realized he had the man's interest hooked.

"You tell us what you know about councilman Perdema, give us some connection to him and the rebellion that we can use as evidence against him, and you get...a chance at freedom." he explained, and Catherine shot him a look of disbelief.

"You can't do that." the rebel accused, and John shrugged.

"Suit yourself. This offer isn't on the table for long." The Spartan answered, leaning back in his seat. Catherine was silent, looking idly between their prisoner and her commander. What was he doing? He couldn't just set the man loose!

A moment passed, and the man before them deflated. "His name isn't Perdema. Well, it is and it isn't." he began. Catherine was prepared to interrupt, but the Chief held up a hand, and shot her a look.

_Let him finish. _

" Councilman Perdema, the real one that is, never actually lived long enough to become a councilman. He was a lieutenant in the navy when Sieg Hoffman, an insurrectionist spook, more or less _replaced _him. He's been pulling strings from the inside this whole time. Small strings yes, but they still aided the rebellion." he explained.

"So we just need to find Hoffman's records in our system, and match the DNA." Catherine said, turning in her seat towards John. He nodded in agreement, and stood from his seat. The redhead watched in disbelief as he undid the man's restraints, equally as surprised as the insurrectionist himself.

"The door's unlocked. You'll have a good head start before they realize your gone." he explained, and Catherine's jaw dropped. "Come on Cath, we have work to do." he said, tone clipped and short. Cat followed him out the door, mouth still slightly agape.

"What the hell did you just do?" she berated as soon as they were out of earshot.

"Relax. I had a tracker placed on him before they even brought him in. He'll make it maybe a mile before they pick him up again." the Spartan explained. Catherine sputtered for a moment as she tried to keep pace with his long strides.

"Did I possibly misjudge you in thinking that you weren't an 'out of the box' thinker?" she asked suspiciously. He raised a brow at her query, but didn't answer. Catherine didn't miss the small smirk that graced his lips.

"Contact Blue Team. Tell them to start looking into Hoffman."

Lasky wasn't looking forward to what he was about to have to do. He recognized the necessity, the call of duty, but there was a piece of himself that ached at the idea of doing it. There was an expected knock on his door, and he sighed deeply. Once that door opened, all hell was going to break loose. "Roland get the door." There was no answer from the AI, but the door did slide open, and a flurry of motion with red hair burst into the room.

"We've got him Lasky! He's got nothing left to hide behind!" she exclaimed, bounding over to him. " Let me guess, called me up here to congratulate me? Also, that little trip to Russia does _not_ count as you upholding our deal-"

"Catherine please be quiet." he interrupted, rubbing a hand over his face. She deflated instantly, and dropped into the chair across from him. It was going to be painful to do this.

"What's wrong?" she asked. Lasky didn't usually make that face, not unless he was being forced to make a decision he didn't want to make.

"An investigation was opened against Perdema, as you're already aware. He was arrested shortly before you arrived. However, in this investigation, it was discovered that you were an involved party." he said, as if he was giving her a speech someone else wrote for him.

"Tom, what are you saying?" she asked, a nervous smile taking place on her face. He couldn't possibly think she was willingly involved with that scum of the earth.

"I'm saying that the council found out that you were previously aware of Perdema's dealings with the insurrectionists, and that you neglected to speak up about it. That being said, the council had to come to a decision. I hate to be the one to do this Catherine." he explained.

"Do what? What are you doing. Lasky, you know I'm not an insurrectionist." she pleaded. Lasky's eyes met hers, and to Catherine's surprise, they were glassy. No. He wouldn't.

"Catherine 005, you are hereby under arrest for involvement with the rebellion." What Lasky was doing went against everything he believed him. He just hoped it was reversable.

Hey Guys, hope you enjoyed this one, I love that you guys are reviewing now! PS: I didn't realize that I had a brown eyed Spartan in any of my chapters, I know that blue is the standard, so I have no clue how that got there. Sorry that this chapter is so short but I figured I may as well go ahead and give it to you.


	14. Truth to my Madness

Hey guys! thanks for all the reviews! Also, I'm thinking of adding a short story adventure in between chapter 15 and 16, let me know if you guys would like that or not. it would be anything ranging from an AU to a side story that may not necessarily be cannon. Now then, Enjoy!

Chapter 14

Catherine had been in a cell before. As a teen, she'd been apprehended a couple of times, but she'd been bailed fairly quickly every time. But that wasn't an option this time. There was no safety net to fall back on now, and she had no choice but to sit in the steel box that performed as her current cage. She couldn't get the image of John's face out of her head, watching as she was led away in cuffs. There was no anger, nor was there an apparent concern. Just a blank, emotionless mask. To watch him slide it so easily into place actually sent a pang of betrayal through her chest.

"I've already told you everything I know. I didn't hide anything from anyone, I just didn't take it to the higher ups." she explained to her interrogators.

"And why is that 005? It should have been your first objective to notify-"

"My first objective? My first objective is my mission. I can't complete that if I'm on someone's hit list!" she argued. The screen before her that showed her just a little bit of what was outside her cell allowed her to see the angry faces of the council, an intimidation tactic for sure, but one that would not deter her.

"Your priority is the security of the UNSC." Catherine grit her teeth and held back a hiss. She was quickly becoming tired of this mess, and when she found the person aptly responsible for it, all hell would break loose.

"Except it wasn't. Not then. My usefulness to booth the UNSC and ONI has been my detached status from the both of them. It's become very clear to me, however, that that is no longer the case." There was a momentary silence after her declaration, and Catherine wasn't sure if that was a good sign or a bad one.

"Your permanent court ruling will take what was discussed today into account. If we decide that you are indirectly responsible for what has taken place in the past few weeks-"

"Bullshit!" she interrupted. "You're trying to pin this on me? This isn't even my department anymore!" she shrieked.

"Your final ruling will be discussed tomorrow. I suggest you consider what it is you want to plead 005." the screen went blank, and Catherine groaned in despair, pulling at her hair. There was a mechanical beep, and suddenly the door to her cell opened, momentarily letting a little more light filter in as a tall figure entered. Catherine let out a sigh of defeat. She really didn't want to deal with any of this today.

"Nice of you to stop by for a visit." she said dryly. He made no reply, sanding silently before her in agitation.

"I'm going to ask you this once. Was I wrong to trust you?" Catherine rolled her eyes at the question.

"I'm not an insurrectionist Chief. I'm not a spy, a double agent, or whatever you want to call it." she said sternly.

"Why are you here?" he asked. Catherine's eyes narrowed slightly, and her head tilted in confusion.

"Here? In this cell? Because some prick-"

"No. Why are you Catherine 005 and not just Catherine. What proof of loyalty do you have to offer?" Oh. That was a different matter entirely, one that she wasn't entirely sure she wasn't sure she wanted to divulge in.

"That, I...There's a lot of answers to that question." she explained, biting her lip as her foot fidgeted idly.

"Well it's a good think you don't have anywhere else to be." If he wasn't already an overtly blunt person, Catherine may have taken offense at the words. Instead she simply nodded, relaxing her tense shoulders.

"I'm here because...If I'm not Catherine 005, then I'm just Catherine nobody. Nobody knows, nobody wants, and nobody cares. Halsey promised me something different. Not just a chance at being somebody, but a chance to redeem myself from what I was." she refused to let her voice crack like some sort of upset child. He was silent for a moment, and Catherine didn't bother waiting for him to speak. Part of her didn't want to hear what he had to say. She wasn't surprised when he silently turned to the door. He paused, however, and she heard him take an almost silent breath in and out.

"Is there anyone you told about Perdema that could help you out of this." he asked. Well, technically there was, but she highly doubted it would be of the utmost importance to the person in question.

"I mentioned it to Serin Osman." the Spartan's head snapped in her direction. "I told her what happened. She advised I keep myself out of it, and told me she'd do her best to handle things." John sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"I'll see what I can do." he said simply, before exiting her cell. She was tempted to tell him he didn't have to do that, but thought better of it. He was right in saying she represented his team, and if this could be cleared up without her permanent arrest, it would look better on the entirety of Blue Team. That thought sent a second, more chilling once up her spine. This could not only take her down, but her team with her. For the first time, Catherine's actions had consequences, and they weren't pretty.

John couldn't help but feel as if he'd been played. He had been subjected to many things in life that had made him feel as if he were being pressed under someone else's boot, but here and now, walking out of Catherine's cell, he felt as if he was at the mercy of someone's personal objective. His fists hung tightened at his sides, and those who he passed stayed on the opposite side of Infinity' corridors. He felt a surge of annoyance at the thought that not only could Catherine be lying, but the entire council could have it out for her purely from their past affiliations. He wasn't sure exactly who had information, or who had given the order for her arrest, but he had a distinct feeling someone had planned this against her.

He shook his head as he entered his quarters, and took a moment to savor the fact that he didn't have to dip his head to fit through the doorway.

The Spartan placed his hands on the Steelers desktop across from his cot, staring at his reflection in it's glossy, laminated top. His eyes were dark, their usual bright blue having shifted to a more dismal, grayish shade. He was accustomed to fatigue, but this unpleasant mental strain, these confusing emotions, his indecisiveness about which side he believed, brought forth a different sense of tiredness. He lowered himself slowly into his seat and sighed.

"Philicity, send Captain Lasky a message. Tell him I need to send out a transmission. I have a favor to ask a certain Admiral." There was a moment before the Chief received a response.

"Captain Lasky has requested your presence on the bridge." John watched in surprise as the little holographic green form appeared on the holotank sitting on his desk. "You're going to fix this, right?" John wanted to tell her he would, wanted to assure the AI that he wouldn't let anything happen to Catherine, but he didn't dare make another promise he couldn't keep. And that was what irked him the most. He'd always been so sure he'd accomplish whatever he set his mind to, and that alone usually secured his wins. However, here and now, he didn't know if he could.

"Monitor any communication leaving the ship. The last thing we need is anyone else catching wind of this. Set all messages concerning Catherine to redacted." he said. "I'll be with the captain in a moment." Philicity nodded, and disappeared. There was a knock on his door and he pressed the command that allowed it to slide open. "Make it quick Kelly, the Captain is waiting." he said as the brown haired Spartan slipped into the room.

"What did she have to say when you spoke with her?" John had had a feeling this was coming.

"Not a lot that was useful. I'm going to contact Osman. Hopefully Cat is right in assuming she can help." he paused for a moment to consider his next words. "What do we do if they find her guilty. I don't believe she really did anything wrong, but that's not going to keep her out of trouble."

"But you aren't willing to watch her be unfairly judged either?" Kelly concluded. He nodded. "There's not much we can do. But there's not nothing either. Contact Osman, tell the council you think something's not right, don't sit here and let everything go down the drain. That's not the John I know." she said.

"You say that like I've already given up." he accused.

"No. I'm just making sure you don't."

"You know, I heard she came from under a bridge or something. I bet they threw her out like garbage." No, she wasn't worthless. There was somebody out there that wanted her. There had to be. She moved, and the wood beneath her creaked loudly. The hushed speaking stopped, and for a moment, it sounded as if everyone had left the room.

The covers were pulled off her so suddenly that she didn't even have time to think to try and escape. "Oh look, little Kitty Cat is eavesdropping." Catherine was shoved from the bed, landing on the floor between the rows of cots.

"I wasn't! I was sleeping, you three interrupted!" she cried, scrambling to her feet as she tried to make her way towards the door. There was a hand on her arm suddenly, and she was hauled back towards the group of older girls.

"come on now Cat, we all know you're a liar. You lie all the time. You steal, you cheat, it's no wonder no one wants you."

"You're wrong Madalin!" Catherine pulled against the other girl's hold, but she was smaller than them, and the action was futile.

"I've never been more right about anything. You really are just like a Cat, nothing but trouble. You should start crawling on the floor like the dirty, little creature you are" the blonde sneered, pushing her to the ground. Her skull collided painfully with wood, and the laughter around her echoed in her ears.

"I'm not a liar, I'm not a liar…" Catherine flew from her cot in a daze. "I'm not a liar!" Her chest heaved and she gasped for air, her head whipping around the small space so fast that it made her back ache. She was alone in a cell on Infinity. She was light years away from Sector 3 now, and yet, she felt as if she was still there now.

"I'm not a liar." She whispered once more, but the darkness around her gave no reply.

"I hope whatever this is about is important." Osman said as she stepped down the ramp of the pelican after the green light was given for the passengers to exit.

"You know I wouldn't have called if it wasn't." John watched her keen eyes take him in with curiosity, and he felt as if he were under a wolf's gaze. "I was told you could help clear something up for the council, what do you remember of 005?" He asked as the pair approached the sealed door that kept the airlock from being exposed to the rest of the ship. It cycled itself in relation to the airlock, before opening.

"The ONI spook that the UNSC adopted? I know a little. Her project was shut down when the ethics of it were questioned, but Dr. Halsey continued the project in secret. When she was arrested, Catherine was no longer allowed to work directly for ONI, and had to be reassigned." Osman explained.

"And what do you remember about her time working with Perdema?" Serin paused, and gave the Master Chief a knowing look.

"I heard Catherine's mission report personally." She alluded.

"So you knew then. That Perdema wasn't who he said he was?" The Spartan asked? Serin sighed in exasperation.

"There's more to the story than that. I didn't believe her. He was an old creep, and considering his undeniable interest in her I had assumed she was scared of nothing. I told her not to speak about it again. I should have listened to her, I admit that now." John nodded, his thoughts racing wildly.

Catherine was telling the truth. She was just following orders that had been given rather unceremoniously.

"Ma'am, I asked you to come to Infinity to relay this information to the council personally. If this isn't cleared up Catherine is going to face charges for secrecy." He explained. He had already irked them enough by asking that they extend the court date for Osman's arrival. If she didn't deliver her side of the story, it was likely that they would take out their agitation on Catherine's sentence.

"I take it that's the favor you wanted? It's unlike you yo be so involved in politics." Osman noticed.

"Catherine is a part of my team. She's family, we take care of each other. You know how that goes." He said softly. Serin was silent at the unspoken call out. Yes. She supposed she did know.

She didn't know how to explain the feeling, but Catherine felt the slip space rupture before the ship's sensors even picked up on it. She didn't know how, but the change in the stars around Infinity almost seemed to hum in her veins. She briefly wondered if it was there to take her away. Maybe the court had made their decision, had she'd been found guilty. There were no windows in her cell, and she didn't think there was anyone listening through the ship's COMs if she were to ask. But….then again.

"Philicity….are you there?" There was a moment of silence in the dark before a soft green glow overtook the room.

"I'm here. As usual." The familiar clipped tone had Catherine relaxing somewhat, and she found that the green glow, while not accompanied by a holographic figure, was a soothing touch.

"A ship just exited slipspace….what's going on out there?"

"Not that I'm supposed to tell you, but it's not one of ours, the bridge is making contact with them as we speak and….oh no." Catherine's face fell.

"Oh no? What does that mean?" The redhead asked frantically.

"It's an insurrectionist ship. A battle class cruiser to be exact." She relayed. Catherine's eyes narrowed.

"They're here for Perdema." It all made sense now. He was their informant for years. They weren't going to let all that information go to waste just because he'd been made. "Philly, I need you to get me out of here. I can help."


	15. Of Monsters and Men

"So what you are saying, is that you ordered agent 005 not to voice her concerns about councilman Perdema?" Serin was growing tired of the million different ways that the council was trying to twist her words, but she was unwilling to change her story.

"On the contrary. I ordered her not to voice them a second time." Osman replied dryly. There were huffs of indignance, and it was a chore not to let a grin spread across her face.

"And why, do tell, did you choose to do that?" The group was seated at a large, round table, half the table taken up by the council, the other by Blue Team, Serin herself, and Captain Lasky.

"Because I was tracking him. After Catherine's initial voicing of concern, I had brushed it off as nothing. It was actually long after she was stationed elsewhere that I came to discover she had been correct in her assumptions. I chose to turn a blind eye for the time being. He was an informant to me on insurrectionist base locations, and he didn't even know it. Arresting him would have meant giving up such information in the future." She explained.

John's hands were threaded tightly together as he listened to the rest of the questioning. The relief that Catherine was innocent in all this mess had begun to seep in, but he refused to fully relax until Cat was no longer out of that cell. The sudden blare of alarms had the Spartan on sudden high alert.

"Roland, what's happening?" Lasky shouted over the shrill beeping.

"We're being boarded sir, and councilman Perdema is no longer in his cell."

"What? How? Where is he now?" Lasky questioned as the council was quickly ushered out of the board room.

"Checking security now. It seems he and councilman Leng were just in route to the hanger." No. He should have seen it coming.

"It was a snatch and grab. The whole meeting they were planning this. They wanted to get their informant out before he ended up dead too." Lasky realized. The four Spartans shared a brief look, then nodded.

"We need to get to the hanger."

Catherine flew down corridor after corridor, heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. They were already docked, but they would have to override the ships security system to open the airlock before they could possibly board their getaway cruiser. She just hoped it would be enough of a deterrent. Her pistol had been confiscated, so there was no hope of a take-out from afar. She'd have to play this situation out with the few cards she still had up her sleeve. It was a matter of assessing the situation before her, taking in every minuscule detail, and using it to her advantage.

"You boys leaving something behind?." Catherine's pace slowed considerably as she approached the two councilmen, one armed with a Magnum, Councilman Leng, if she remembered correctly. He hadn't been of suspicion to her until now, and she wondered what exactly she had missed.

"005-" Perdema, or rather, the snake posing as him, was interrupted as Leng pointed the barrel of his gun in her direction. His grip was sloppy, and Catherine fought the urge to purse her lips in an unimpressed manner.

"Don't even try it. I know you aren't actually an insurrectionist spy." He stated. She could still have sold it. There was always the option of using Perdema's fondness to her advantage, but after the past few days, she just didn't feel like playing games.

"I take it that means you're the one starting the ruckus about my loyalties then." She said, sauntering closer despite the weapon aimed directly at her.

"I'm only gonna say this once. Stay the hell back." Fear. Catherine recognized it the moment her eyes locked with his.

"Come on, you've read my file. We both know that's not going to work very well. What did that Psych evaluation say again? Suicidal? Unfit for duty? Something about how I tend to run head first into dangerous situations? I have nothing to lose. You know that. I know that. The question is, who's going to act on it first?" She mused.

The gunshot rang out, but Catherine's reaction time was faster than Leng's, and upon the twitch of his finger, she was already on the move. She took control of the wrist in charge of his weapon first, using it to twist his arm backwards until it made a resounding snapping sound, followed by the shattering of his kneecap as her foot collided with it. Leng fell to the floor in a heap with a shout of pain and anger.

The redhead confiscated his weapon as Perdema stood frozen in his place. "You know, I never would have taken you for the type to get involved with people like them." She began. He took a step back for her every step forward. "You never seemed to find of violence, but then again you were never really one of the war mongrels. No, you were just fine to sit on your little throne at the top, making other people bleed for a cause, one that you probably don't even believe in. Were you always just in it for the money? Or were you ever actually devoted to the cause?" She hissed, increasing her pace. There was a ear shattering beep, as the hanger suddenly began to open. They had likely been able to hack into the ship's protocols by now.

"You're too late, there's nothing you can do now." He stated as the hanger door locked itself in the open position. Catherine grit her teeth and sighed.

"I don't like you, but this wasn't how I wanted this to go." She admitted. Perdema's brow twitched in confusion. She didn't like killing people, not like this, when it was personal, but she couldn't let this man walk back into insurrectionist hands with all the information he had.

"You wouldn't." Catherine wasn't expecting the comment to come from Leng, who was still writhing on the floor, but she didn't take her eyes off Perdema. There were now heavy footfalls racing towards them. Some coming from the insurrectionist ship, and some from behind her. There was going to be one heck of a brawl, and Catherine didn't have time to risk Perdema slipping away.

Her finger curled around the trigger as she pointed it at his chest. But the shrill bang that followed didn't come from her gun. It came from the sniper poised at the open bay of the ship that insurrectionist soldiers were now pouring out of. Her head tilted downwards ever so slightly to the red blotch on her abdomen. Not a fatal wound. She still had a chance. Snipers took an average of four seconds to reload. She looked back up to Perdema's pale face and pulled her trigger, the hesitation gone. His body hit the ground, and Catherine's own followed as she fell to her knees.

Her mind felt foggy, but through the haze she recognized two things. The sniper never took his second shot, and there was someone screaming at her.

"You're a Monster!" Leng was shouting insults at her until the butt of a gun collided with his head. A monster. Was that what she was? Not a liar, not a spy, and not a traitor. But a monster? That was something she may actually have been.

"Cover her!" Linda's voice rang out as the sound of exchanged gunfire began. Catherine forced herself to breath, letting her eyes take on a neon shade as she scanned the hanger for somewhere to take cover.

'Come on Cat, breath, focus, Blue Team is here, you've got backup.' She coached herself. Her eyes landed on a stack of large, metal crates, and she felt a flood of relief. 'Bingo!'

Lethargically, she managed to maneuver herself towards them, taking cover from the barrage of gunfire. It was a struggle to keep her eyes open, and before she knew it, the room had quieted considerably. The sound of heavily armored footsteps alerted her to the presence of someone else invading her hiding spot, and she looked up to see the familiar polaroid visor of Kelly.

"Oh good. Kelly, I feel like crap." She mumbled, a tinge of reddened saliva dripping from the corner of her lip. The blue armored Spartan knelt down to where she was leaned against the crates for support, and helped her to her feet.

"I can imagine." She responded, accent thick with concern as she helped the other woman to her feet. A medic met them halfway between their position and the exit of the hanger bay, and asked her to lay down on the floor.

There was a series of clanks, and when Catherine looked up, she found herself surrounded by four towering Spartans. "Hey guys, how did my court meeting go?" She questioned. The drugs in her system had taken effect almost as soon as the nurse had administered them, and her voice was now slurred noticeably.

John turned his helmeted head in the direction of Serin Osman, who now stood behind the glass windows overlooking the bay. "Everything is going to be fine. I promise." He assured her.

"That's great. Really, really great." She muttered as her wounds were treated. "If it's alright with you, I'm gonna pass out now." John's eyes widened a fraction as her head thudded against the metal bulkhead. A heavy sigh escaped his lips, one that went unheard under his helmet. He never broke his promises….on purpose. At least this time, he hadn't failed to do so.

Catherine was fairly certain she had never vomited blood in her life, even after multiple bullet wounds to her gut, but the doctors insisted she should stay in the Ship's medical facilities overnight, in case such a thing should happen. Frederick had come by once to give her the news that her investigation had been cleared, and she was no longer under the scrutinization of the UNSC. Linda had accompanied him, but she hadn't had much to say to the redhead. In fact, she'd been silent for most of their visit, o ly speaking up to wish her a quick recovery when the pair departed, and relay that the Chief would likely drop by later.

Catherine was therefore expecting him when he arrived, however, she was not expecting who accompanied him. "Admiral Osman? Ma'am...what are.you doing here?" She asked, attempting to sit up.

"At ease. You seem to have gotten the short end of the stick in all this, haven't you?" She said, leisurely taking a seat.

"Why are you here? If he promised you a favor in return from me-"

"On the contrary, I'm here as a favor to John." Catherine's eyes settled on the Spartan questioningly, and he huffed a laugh, nodding.

"Serin came because I told her the situation required her testimony." He explained. Catherine's eyebrows seemed to knit in confusion. Serin? Her eyes flicked back and forth between the pair curiously.

"Do you two….know eachother?" She asked. The two shared a momentary, grim look. What was she missing here? What did she not know?

"That's a story for another time." John said sternly. Catherine narrowed her eyes at him, but dropped the topic.

"Besides, I'm not here to tell stories." Serin interrupted. "I'm here to make an apology. And to say thank you."

"Thank you? Catherine parroted. "For what?" Serin merely shrugged.

"I told you to stay quiet about Perdema. If you hadn't, the UNSC wouldn't have acquired the information they did from tagging him all these years. However, I am sorry that this all came back to bite you." Cat rolled her eyes at the statement.

"Don't be, everything seems to." She mumbled. Serin offered her a dismal smile.

"I'll take your word for it. My transport is leaving shortly. I'll leave you to rest now." The admiral said, standing from her seat. "It was good to see you again Master Chief." She said, nodding in the Spartan's direction as he replaced her occupancy in the bedside seat. Catherine briefly noticed that he had neglected to change out of his biosuit, and had instead thrown a pair of fatigues over it. He appeared disheveled, as if this was the first peaceful moment he'd had in hours.

"Lasky has a surprise for you." He began. Catherine raised a brow at the declaration.

"Does he now?" She questioned, situating herself more comfortably.

"Something to do with a deal the two of you made. As soon as you're cleared to leave the sick bay, he'll brief the team. That being said-"

"I feel fine, Chief." She interrupted. "I'll be on my feet again in no time. That sniper was a lousy shot." She added.

"I was going to say take your time in recovery. There's no reason to rush." He corrected. Catherine sent him a flat look of indignation. "Don't. Don't start." He threatened.

"Too late, I'm already going." She said, a grin plastered on her face. Then a thought struck her, one that had her suddenly perky demeanor slouching. "Hey, Philicity….she didn't get in any trouble...right?" She asked. The Spartan gave her a look of confusion, but it quickly turned to understanding.

"So that's how you got out." He realized. A sigh of relief escaped her lips. No one knew what had happened. Good. The last thing she wanted was to see the AI terminated.

"I don't suppose we could keep that between us?" She prodded. John let the smallest grin slide onto his face.

"This once." He watched as her shoulders loosened, and he couldn't help the pang in his chest at the memory of his small blue friend. His friend. Cortana had been his only living friend for so long, that to think of her now…..it felt strange. The sudden dip of his lips and frosty look in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by the redhead. She didn't know why, but she knew that she needed to change the conversation.

"Tell me something, Chief. Have you ever played poker?" She asked. The icy look in his eyes seemed to fade, and his sea blue orbs met hers.

"No." He answered simply, and Catherine blinked in surprise.

"Well seeing as I have nothing better to do right now, you're going to have to learn." John nodded in resignment.

"May I ask you something personal?" He asked suddenly, taking her off guard.

"I mean, I guess so." She said. She wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"You didn't seem even slightly affected by what Leng called you today-"

"Why would I be?" She interjected. "It's not like I'm not used to the verbal abuse. I'll have you know I've been called worse things." She assured him. He was quiet for a moment, something Catherine found he usually feel back on. Silence seemed to be something he would often indulge in.

"Names have meaning." He said suddenly. Thel Vadumm had taught him that. He had called him Demon once, but that was a title of strength and fearful respect. "But if it doesn't bother you, don't let it start to." He advised.

Catherine snorted at the almost laughable attempt he had made to make her feel better about Leng and his name calling. "I don't need a crash course on dealing with snobby higher ups who have too much mouth. But thanks I guess." John's frown turned into a grimace. He supposed she really didn't. There was apparently a lot he still had to learn about her. Maybe Fred was right. Maybe he was more cut out for being her commander than he had originally thought. There may just have been more that they shared in common than he had previously suspected.

"So poker. What's that?"


	16. Fuel for Thought

It was relieving for more than a few UNSC members when Catherine was cleared to leave the med-bay. Fireteam majestic had offered once again to buy her a drink, and once again she refused the offer. Thorne had come to visit her at one point, but she'd been having one of her worst days then, and he seemed genuinely happy to see her looking better. It felt strange to her. She'd had one night out with the group, and yet they seemed to actually worry about her.

Blue Team had seemed considerably less concerned however. They had been quiet, as per usual, and merely stared at her with soul boring gazes when they met her outside the psych ward. She hadn't needed therapy, but Lasky had insisted she at least speak to a specialist, even if it was brief. They were so strange, the IIs.

"Well you've had an eventful time lately." In Catherine's opinion, Philly was far too cheery considering what had transpired the past few days. She wasn't even completely through the door to her dorm, and the day of sunshine the AI was emitting was already blinding her morbid mood.

"I think you're short circuiting, you're too happy." Cat grumbled, slinking into her cot. The AI looked so genuinely offended, sanding on her little pedestal with her hip cocked to the side

"I don't _have_ circuits you barbarian." She huffed. Catherine grinned, flashing her pearly white teeth. It wasn't in their programming to judge, something Catherine appreciated greatly. "I spoke to the Chief today." She added, almost as an afterthought, but the tone she used suggested she had intended to bring it up.

"About?" The redhead prodded. She was becoming increasingly curious about his habits and the reasons behind them.

"You." Cat couldn't help the way she stiffened at the accusatory tone in her voice.

"That's vague, and not at all helpful." She chided. If she was going to have a serious conversation, then she wasn't going to skirt around it.

"He wanted me to provide your most recent psych evaluation from three years ago, to compare with the one you had this morning." She explained. "He seemed upset about what he found in there. Would you happen to have any idea why that is?" She asked.

Catherine knew _exactly_ why that was. She'd taken advantage of the fact that she could read upside down to have a look over the doctors notes on her. They said she had gotten worse, functioning on an unstable psyche and whatnot. But….they were wrong. Nothing had been wrong with her from the start, at least by her standards. Sure the years had gotten harder as time went on, but she didn't feel any worse than she did as a child, or at least what she could remember from it. "I have no idea what upset him." She said sternly, leaving no room for further questioning.

A sudden knock on the door drew Catherine's attention away from the AI, but the small, green woman didn't miss the glint in her eyes. With a sigh, Philicity dematerialized to give the redhead and her guest a modicum of privacy.

Cat tapped a panel on the wall, and the door slid open. She had expected to see Hoya, or one of the other IVs, but instead, Kelly stood before her, a tablet in her hands and her haired pulled up in it's typical fashion. Her cotton, standard overalls seemed to barely fit, but then again, she supposed it must be hard for someone of Kelly's caliber to fit into anything at all.

"Uhh, hi?" She offered. Kelly quietly raised a brow at her greeting.

"Do you have a minute?" She asked. Oh, right. Catherine stepped to the side, allowing Kelly enough space to step into her dorm. She took a moment to glance around, taking the environment in. Catherine wasn't sure if she was judging her, or casing the premises. Did she set up a perimeter for every room she walked into? About the only threat in her little dorm room was her firearm sitting idly on her nightstand. But the chamber was empty, and Catherine had no intention of adding a full clip unless a situation that called for such arose. "It's very….you." she stated. Her head turned towards the redhead with a tilt that mirrored the humored curve of her lips. "That's a good thing." She added.

"You wanted to speak to me?" Catherine prodded as Kelly tested the sofa precariously, before taking a seat.

"Sort of. You get along well with majestic. I've noticed that's a result of things you share in common. I've brought over a few of my favored novels. I hoped you would have time to sift through any you found interesting during the remainder of your recovery and you and I could discuss them." The way Kelly spoke sounded so clear and crisp, that it made Catherine feel as if she'd been doused with cool water.

"Oh. Like a book club?" She asked. Kelly's lips seemed to purse at the question.

"Yes. Like a _book club_." She parroted in a clipped tone. "Linda has indulged in a few of them, I'm sure with some persisting, she'd be open to joining us." Catherine chuckled softly.

"I think I pester Linda enough as it is." She admitted, and Kelly's eyes narrowed as the redhead took a seat beside her. She handed her the tablet, and watched as Catherine flipped through the titles.

"You and I have spoken very little." She said pointedly. Kelly had felt as if Catherine had particularly separated herself from both she and Frederick. It was understandable that she struggled with how to regard her brother, but she had done nothing to push her away that she knew of.

"Well you're all rather quiet. And I know next to nothing about all of you. Heck, I'm probably not allowed to know most things about you all." She pointed out.

"What would you ask?" The question was posed delicately, as if she wasn't supposed to offer it. It made Catherine pause.

"Actually, there is something that's been bugging my curiosity. Serin Osman, what's her relationship with the Chief? How do they know each other, and why would she make the trip to Infinity just because he asked it of her?" Catherine watched as a rather unexpected amused smile touched her face.

"Serin 019." She said almost wistfully. "It isn't so much the relationship she hold's with John, but with all of us." Kelly was silent for a moment, staring off into nothing, as if she were remembering something from a long, long time ago. "Find anything you like?" She asked suddenly, and Catherine couldn't do much more than stare. She chose not to respond, and merely picked the title that currently resided on her screen.

"Do you have tea?" Kelly asked as Catherine pulled up the first chapter. She nodded towards the small kitchenette.

"Dried leaves are apparently easier to smuggle through inter-terrestrial customs than coffee grounds. Have at." There was something unnerving about how Kelly went through the task of making them both a hot cup of tea, without making a single sound save the ping of the automatic kettle timer. There was no rustle of clothes, of padding of feet. It was so...inhumane. So sterile. Now that she thought about it, everything about the Spartans was. Sterile that is. "Hey, I know this may sound kinda weird but...could you like...make some noise or something?" Catherine said over her shoulder. Kelly huffed softly in amusement. That was better, Catherine supposed.

"I'm used to the team being more aware of my presence without sound." she explained, returning to her seat next to the redhead.

"Believe me, I'm very aware of your presence. It's just...a little creepy how quiet you all are when you don't have to be. I'm used to being on a team meaning a little more rowdyness." she explained, discarding the tablet. She had a feeling the book had merely been an ice breaker anyhow.

"And what have your previous teams been like other than rowdy?" Kelly asked. She wasn't curious by any means, but it was becoming a genuine strain to connect to the other agent, and if Kelly could understand her speed a little bit better, maybe she could be the bridge. However, the question did little to open Catherine up to her teammates. Instead, she felt her mouth run dry as old, but fresh memories resurface.

"I had a team of my own, once. The others from project Forerunner." she said trepidatiously. There were six of us. Me, Wren, and Vega made up Team Osborne. Wren was fresh out of the military academy, and Vega...She was a little less green than the two of us. Taught us all the swear words she could in Manderin. She was loud and harsh, had a way with making people do what she wanted." Catherine explained with a soft laugh.

"She was your team leader then?" Kelly asked.

Leader? No, Vega had most certainly not been a leader. An influencer, and an unyielding support, but not a leader. "She was...something like that." The redhead said. IT couldn't have been farther from the truth, and Catherine was suddenly reminded of the days when she'd been a knock kneed child, mud on her face and grit in her teeth, calling the shots she had no place calling because there was no one else who dared to call them. Wren was a good man, but he didn't take kindly to the idea of making decisions that got others killed, even if he himself was willing to die for the orders of another. But Catherine...she already had blood on her hands by the young age of sixteen. She still remembered having Alice's blood smattered on her forehead the day she met Dr. Halsey.

"And where do these people reside now? Fallen soldiers in an unmarked grave? Or respected war heros gone home to their families?" The question shouldn't have been as common as it was, but during the years that followed on the heels of what was thought to be an unending war, it was disgustingly common to speak of those that were no longer among them. Catherine let a grim smile slip past her lips.

"They never saw combat. Only the simulations, and the meager recon we were sent on during training." She sipped her tea as Kelly handed her the extra cup. "Agents 1-4 were a failure, Their bodies unfit for the specific altercations of project Forerunners final _enhancements_. They delayed the augmentation of 006 until I completed my own process. I was the last to begin the procedure, and if I lived, they would move on to Wren's augmentations. I made it, Wren didn't." she finalized, and Kelly sucked in a breath.

Catherine was the sole survivor of Project Forerunner. That was why it had been shut down. But Dr. Halsey had continued in secret nonetheless. What else had she put Catherine through?

"That's unfortunate." Kelly offered. Catherine nodded in agreement. "But it's war. Hard decisions had to be made." she added.

"I don't hate her for project Forerunner." Catherine spoke. "It gave me a reason to be fed, and sheltered." she reasoned, eyes staring ahead, not particularly focused on anything in particular. "I hate her because she's a cold, emotionless creature. I hate her because she regards everyone in her presence like a specimen. She was tear the damn universe apart to understand it, and apologize to its inhabitants afterwards as a formality." the tone with which she spoke told Kelly that Catherine held little respect for the Dr, but whether or not that was for personal reasons, or a general evaluation of the woman herself, Kelly could not decide. "Dr. Halsey rescued me. She taught me so many things, showed me that there was more to life than the haze of survival I was living in. There's a difference between fighting and surviving." she added as an afterthought. "But I was beneficial to her. If not, she'd have left me in the hell she found me in."

For a moment, Kelly truly had to wonder what kind of life a child would have to have to consider being brought into war and death a rescue. John may not have realized it yet, but KElly was no fool. Catherine had begun this lifestyle young. Maybe not as young as herself, but with the way she carried herself, she could tell the years spent in war had been numerous. And Catherine, she was not quite that old to begin with. If she was asked to pinpoint the redheads exact age, she'd guess somewhere between twenty seven and thirty. John was thirty two with all that time in cryogenic sleep, and she herself was thirty four. She wasn't sure where Frederick or Linda resided anymore. After all the scattered years being frozen over here and there, and the way time had seemed to pass differently on Onyx, it was hard to tell. If one were to discount cryosleep, and count it to date, she supposed she'd be close to forty by now. That being said, Catherine was young. There was no discounting that fact. "What do you know of the Spartan II program?' she asked, and Catherine shrugged.

"Very little. I know that Dr. Halsey oversaw it, and I know that the ethics of it were highly questioned."

"We were taken." Kelly stated. "I was six, thought my family had set up a game of some sort, and managed to evade capture for hours." she watched Catherine's expression closely, but no amount of remorse seemed to pass over her features.

"Doesn't surprise me." she said over the rim of her cup. "Explains why the board seemed as ashamed of the decision to green light the project as they did." Kelly nodded.

"The spartan project has always been viewed as more of a flaw, due to the morals that were overlooked in the face of war." Kelly went on. "I was never resentful for being chosen. To this day, I'm honored to have protected humanity." she said, and Catherine recognized a tinge of pride in her voice.

"It's not what people make of you, but what you make of yourself." Catherine said softly. "I learned that the hard way." Rat. Liar. Useless. Ugly. No, it wasn't what she'd been perceived as that had kept her alive all these years, but what she'd chosen to believe she was. The only thing that disturbed her about such, was that she wasn't quite sure what exactly she had decided she was. As long as she wasn't what they had wanted her to be, she supposed she didn't really care. But then something tugged at the back of her mind, something that didn't exactly add up. The Chief...he'd told her he was _separated_ from his family. He hadn't mentioned that he'd been forcibly removed from them, or that he hadn't chosen to be a Spartan. And yet, he'd been the sole effort that won the war. A sense of respect bloomed in her chest, one that she couldn't quite ignore. If she had had a family, a perfectly good family, and someone had taken her away from it, even if it was for the greater good, she couldn't say she'd have had it in herself not to damn the world, whether it needed her or not. That lead her to wonder what other things had been taken from her team, other than their childhoods. Had they been taught that they didn't have a choice? What kind of indoctrination had been shoved down their throats to keep them from rebelling? There was something about the way that Kelly seemed to know how she'd been so abhorrently wronged that made Catherine wonder if the knowledge was something she had only discovered in recent years. The way Blue Team seemed to have this sort of social awkwardness about them despite knowing what was expected of them to achieve an image of normalcy told Catherine that they were just warming up to the amount of privacy, the amount of free will the end of the war had given them. And it hurt, for some damn unknown reason. It stung in her chest like small pinpricks.

"Why tell me all of this?" she asked suddenly. None of the others had trusted her with their origins, so why did Kelly?

"Because you need to know what he's done. He may never tell you, but you need to understand the choices he's made, more importantly the ones he's going to have to make."

Catherine bit back a retort that she was well aware that John would have tough decisions to make regarding her in the future. He could have to leave her behind, or send her to die, and she would have no right to judge him for it. "You don't have to remind me. I've made hard choices, and I've suffered the consequences for them. They're just no longer mine to make." she said.

Kelly didn't stay much longer than the time it took to finish her tea. Catherine should have taken the opportunity to rest, having just been checked out of the medbay, but she couldn't bring herself to sleep. She'd allowed the thought of Alice to cross her mind, and now she couldn't quite get it out. She hadn't thought of the incident in years, and it had been easy then, to shove it from her mind, when it was fresh and painful. But now, it was a dull ache, and thinking of those pretty blue eyes framed by all that curly blonde hair made her throat feel dry. Her best friend, her pure hearted Alice whom she'd have done anything for. She remembered how warm her blood had felt on her face, remembered how she had screamed at her to run, not to bother. No. She couldn't handle those memories. It was better to think about the times before that. To running outside sector three barefoot, down to the creek and swinging from the old, beat down tire that had hung from even older trees.

She remembered running her fingers through Alice's soft hair, braiding it back away from her heart shaped face. She thought of the pride in the other girl's face when Catherine had found it in herself to stand up for herself, to fight. Cat remembered all of these things and more, and she quickly found that it was far easier to remember the day

That Alice had died, than all the ones that she had lived. That night, she dreamed of fire, burning, raging around her, destructive, passionate, and pulsating with the beat of her heart like a wardrum. "Firefly ...wake up Firefly." Catherine's eyes flashed open as she boltd up from sleep, and a scream left her lips.

Catherine wasn't right when the morning finally came. She trudged to the mess hall for breakfast looking like a complete mess, physically and mentally. Her eyes were wide as an owl's, but they held a sort of glaze to them that spoke volumes about the amount of rest she'd actually gotten that night. That voice, the one that had taunted her in her sleep, had yet to leave her. Even once she had woken, it had spoken to her, over and over again. She knew the difference between voices in her head, and ones she was actually hearing, and that voice...it was real. It spoke to her without sound. 'Firefly.' A shiver ran up her spine, and Catherine wrapped her arms around her frame.

"Get out of my head." she murmured unevenly, a sort of fright evident in her tone. What the hell was happening to her?

"Cath…..Cath!" the voice that had been calling out to her finally broke through her haze, and the redhead realized she had made it to the mess hall minutes ago. She'd been standing there, amongst marines that starred idly at her for some time now, lost in thought. Her head turned towards the person who had called her, the motion slow and looking more like that of the dead than the living. John. He was approaching her, a look of skepticism and concern on his features, and Catherine's mood soured at the realization that he'd witnessed her 'out of body' state of mind.

'Aw crap.' Catherine grimaced when his hand landed on her shoulder. "Hey Chief." she greeted in a most unenthusiastic manor. He regarded her as if she were a skittish animal, not moving to fast now that he was close to her.

"Are you feeling alright?" he interrogated. She blinked a few times, her mind processing the question like a slow computer.

"Talking to Kelly gave me nightmares." she stated. A look of slight alarm crossed his features, and Catherine let out a dull sigh. "Not necessarily Kelly herself, I mean, it instigated something else. But yes, I'm perfectly fine." she added.

"I think you're sick." he stated flatly, and Catherien seemed to sober immediately.

"What? No, no. I just left the medbay, I'm fine." she argued, waving her hands in front of herself frantically. "I just...I need to eat." she said suddenly, her head snapping around in search of the food line, as if she had just remembered that her body had physical needs other than the sleep she was lacking. "Yes, of course, I'm at the mess hall, that's why I'm at the mess hall, because I need to eat. I'm going to do that now." she declared in a rush, swiveling around, and taking off in a rush, only to collide with one of the round tables that had been situated closest to her. It had been drastically under her line of sight, and it's utter existence had slipped her mind, at least until the edge of it was brutally slammed into the newly forming scar tissue where a bullet had only recently pierced her flesh. She nearly choked on her breath, stumbling for a moment, and wheezing as the nausea hit her, before shuffling off towards the breakfast line. John watched as she swore under her breath, blue eyes wide and brow raised. He wasn't sure what he had just witnessed, but something odd had transpired before him. With the shake of his head, he joined her, picking up his own tray as he entered the line behind her.

"We're to meet with the Captain in a few hours." he said, and she jumped at the sound of his voice. John's eyes narrowed at her. She seemed to be rather distracted with something in her own head.

"Lasky, meeting, got it." she recited. 'Firefly.' No. No. No. She shook her head vigorously,ignoring the stares of people around her, including the chief's. She hoped Lasky had something good for them. She needed the distraction. As she piled food onto her plate, Catherine tried to ignore the wild pounding in her chest, and when she caught the Spartan's gaze, she briefly wondered if he too could hear it.

Catherine wasn't surprised to find that she was the last to join Lasky and Blue Team on the bridge. Something seemed off about her four teammates oddly enough. There was a subtle change in Kelly's posture that almost seemed giddy. Catherine wasn't sure how such an emotion could be so clearly perceivable with the lack of outward signs, and yet even with how little of themselves the group left exposed, Catherine could sense an aura of excitement shared among the group. They wag their eyes all landed on her upon her arrival told her she had something to do with it. Maybe they were finally getting rid of her, she mused for a moment.

"You're looking much better." Lasky greeted. She nodded uncomfortably, very aware of all the attention.

"Lacking a few hours of sleep, but better than when I was wheeled into emergency care at least." she sighed, taking to leaning against the bulkhead. "So what's this all about?" she finally asked.

"You requested time planetside, and Blue Team was all too eager to comply to the idea, so I'm sending you on a...diplomatic mission of sorts. Catherine's eyes narrowed in confusion. Diplomacy was the last thing she would list as one of her personal skills, and she couldn't help but feel that Lasky was making a bit of a mistake, even if it did benefit her. The Captain chuckled at her perplexed look, and if Catherine was willing to let herself believe her eyes, she could have sworn an almost imperceptible smile broke out on the Master Chief's face.

"You said you were curious about aliens, how does a trip to Sanghelios sound." as the words left the Spartan's mouth, the redhead felt as if her eyes had widened enough to bulge out of her head.

"We're going to Sanghelios?" she asked, excitement and disbelief flooding her all at once. "I thought it was off limits!" she exclaimed.

"It was." Lasky stated carefully. "The planet has been dealing with a bit of civil war, but about a month ago we were able to contract a deal with the arbiter. In return for a bit of backup on Sanghelios for the next few months, the Arbiter has agreed to open trade routes, join an alliance, and all together work out as peaceful an agreement as possible concerning the fact that we now have to share the galaxy with a few more species than before. If all goes well, they'll consider integrating a few of our own into their ranks and vice versa." he explained.

"We'll be stationed for four months, helping out with the war effort wherever it's needed. There's already been a small area sectioned off for a UNSC base, as of now it's functioning a lot like Onyx, most of the troops moved out there took their families with them, we won't be the only humans planetside, but the ratio is still off by a good margin. You can expect to come into contact with a lot more than just UNSC personnel." Kelly added. It was a genuine effort for Catherine to fight down the giddy feeling in her chest, lest she explode into a ball of excitement in front of the four stoic members of her team. She wasn't worried about Lasky, he knew her all to well, the wide smile on his face tell tale of it. When the CAptain was finished with the briefing, it took the redhead all but two seconds to bound away, and John supposed that she was going to tell Horace and Cassandra the news. Blue Team slipped off, shaking their heads in amusement, but John remained by the captain's side, intent on having a word with him.

"Thank you, for arranging this." he said. Lasky chuckled softly in response.

"Don't thank me, she's the one that made me promise to orchestrate something." he insisted. John merely nodded, a small smile on his lips. "Is that a smile I see Master Chief?" Lasky asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Her good moods are contagious, when she's in them." he deadpanned. It was true. There was this innocent wisdom about Catherine, as if she knew it was frowned upon to be as ardently happy about certain things when, there was so much around them to be grim about, but she simply didn't care if it was proper or not to be happy about them. After his first few encounters with her were contingent on her bad moods, he had to admit that she was a more pleasant person when she wasn't upset about something. So pleasant, in fact, that John actually found that he liked it. For some reason, it made him want to make sure there was nothing for her to be upset about. The last time he remembered feeling that way, it had been for...Sam. It had been for Sam, when he'd been upset about something that the Master Chief could no longer recall. "I care about her." he stated, and the captain raised a brow. That's what all of this was about, he realized. "That's why you assigned her to us, because you needed someone to care about her." the knowing smile on Lasky's face spoke more than words could.

"I've almost lost Catherine more times than I can count in the past few years. I have a feeling she doesn't have nine lives left anymore." he began. "I know more about the four of you than you think I do. I also know that if I had paired her with a group of ODSTs they'd never have been able to keep up with her. I'm sure it seems like an infantile task compared to what you're all used to working with, but I put her in your hands because I knew you could handle it." Lasky praised.

"I didn't think could at first. John admitted. And he hadn't. She'd nearly drove him mad in the beginning. Still did at times. But he understood now. Maybe not everything, but there was a lot he could stand to learn from the experience. After everything the Spartan had been exposed to since he'd woken up from four years of cro, preceded by numerous years of combat, John found that he was no longer as opposed to learning certain things, as he once had been. One thing was for certain however. He'd gone and gotten himself attached. He just hoped that wasn't a mistake.

AN:You guys, the amount of reviews is kinda pathetic. Thanks to those of you that did review though! you guys keep me going! I honestly want to know what you all think so far.


	17. Where You Begin

Time seemed to pass quickly on Sanghelios. Catherine wasn't sure if there was simply a break in the 'space-time-continuum-' or if she was simply so busy that she barely noticed the passing of time. There had been little of that as of late. The Arbiter was an interesting creature, and for the first few weeks on Sanghelios, Catherine found that the poor Elite was so swamped with war and legality, and the promoting of peace, that he hardly had time to do anything that seemed even remotely relaxing. He always seemed on edge when he greeted her, another mystery that she had also yet to solve. "Your size makes him uncomfortable, he's worried he's going to break you." Fred had teased relentlessly, and Catherine had actually felt somewhat embarrassed, living among legends and warriors that looked like something out of a comic book, while she herself appeared as frightening as a kitten. But she was no house cat, and the first month of their stay, Catherine spent her time proving just that, training with the other Sangheli, accompanying them on missions, and putting forth an overall effort to immerse herself in the culture. It meant trying a few dishes she wasn't partial to, but the experience was one she didn't think she'd ever have imagined as a child. John however, had begun to behave oddly around her. He'd quickly left behind the trepidations about her he had previously held, and she found him to be more forth-comming when it came to communicating with her in the same manner as he did with his team. It wasn't long before Catherine realized why Lasky had been so supportive of this endeavor. There was little contact with other humans to be had, which caused her to rely on her team more than she had needed to on Infinity. And so the first month of their stay passed in the most routine manner that one could expect from living on an alien homeworld.

The planet was hot. Sunny hell was the description Catherine had taken to referring to it as, but the nights could be awfully cold, especially when the weather was less than desirable. Catherine had taken to wearing cargo shorts, along with whatever was short sleeved that she could get her hands on. As she sat in one of the shorter trees overlooking an open field, the breeze wafting through her bright red locks, she couldn't help but think that, with the right amenities, the planet would be a pleasant one to retire to some day. _If _she made it that far. Her short legs swung back and forth as her pencil tapped her sketchbook idly. She'd spent the past hour drawing figures, using her commander as an unsuspecting reference as he went through his personal workout routine. The front of his shirt was drenched in sweat, courtesy out the heat that beat down on them both.

"You could do that inside you know." she said, matter of factly.

"There's not enough room inside." he wasn't wrong. They're little living space that consisted of a furnished living room, a kitchen, and five seperate tennant rooms wasn't exactly spacious.

"Can't you do this at night?" she prompted. He paused his sit ups to look up at her with an unamused glare.

"If you're hot, go inside." he ordered.

"But I'm bored. There's nothing to do today. R'tas hasn't come up with any new tasks for me, Thel doesn't have any new information on the Didact's Hand, and Linda scares me when she's meditating."

"Because you interrupt her. I'm becoming familiar with the feeling." he grumbled. "You're on an alien planet, I'm sure you can find some sort of trouble to get into." the Spartan argued. A grin broke out on Cat's face.

"So you're giving me permission to get into trouble?" she asked as John continued his sit ups, and he paused momentarily.

"On second thought…." he began, realizing what a mistake it would be for her to be off running amuck. "No." Catherine outright laughed, and the Spartans gave her a flat look in return. He stood suddenly, approached her forestry throne, and with one swift kick, he knocked the small tree over. Catherine yelped, tumbling from it's low branches, and falling arse over tea kettle to the grassy earth.

"How very gentlemanly of you." she hissed sarcastically.

"Are you still bored?" he asked, an almost grin apparent on his face as he bent down to retrieve her sketchbook. He flipped through the most recent pages, and that almost grin turned into a full one, stretching the scar on his top lip. "What have you been up to?" he accused.

"Practicing. That's how you get good at stuff." she challenged, and John snorted in return. He was tempted to make a retort, but knew it would be best not to engage. She hadn't been sleeping well, and it was apparent. He'd chalked it up to PTSD, or nightmares, but every morning she looked a little more disturbed from the last. As a result, her attitude had been eating at his tolerance more so than usual. He hadn't pressed for details however, and left it to her to fix herself. A part of him did wonder though. What caused her to look so absolutely tortured after what should have been a restful night?

Catherine had been overjoyed when she received word from Thel Vadam that something had come up that required immediate attention. Apparently there had been some sort of avalanche in the mountains, and the natural disaster had revealed a cave that, according to Thel, had been otherwise hidden for centuries. The kicker though, was that the entrance was inscribed with old Forerunner hieroglyphics. Catherine was both curious, and terrified of what she could possibly find inside. She'd taken a warthog off base to the site, where the Sangheli had filled her in on what they knew thus far.

"It's not nearly as old as any of the halo rings." he explained. "This place was not covered intentionally, but by gradual movement throughout the mountains. It wasn't closed off from my people that long ago. Long before my birth, but in the grand scheme of things, it can't be more than a hundred years old. Catherine took in the glyphs around the entrance of the cave with her bright green eyes as analysis took over. She wasn't sure why, but the symbols looked oddly familiar.

"How is that possible? I didn't think the Forerunners were active that rec-" Catherine closed her mouth quickly as her memories of Faerie resurfaced. There was an active Forerunner out there right now. Who was to say that there weren't more. There could have been plenty when the cave before them was made. That lead yet another question to alight in Catherine's mind. How many active Forerunners were there? And where were they now? Was she the only one who knew they even still existed?

"What are your thoughts?" the rumble of Thel's voice put a halt to Catherine's thoughts.

"I'm not sure yet." she met the creatures rust colored gaze, and bit her lip. "Can I go inside?" she asked.

"Humanity, the reclaimers, are the Forerunner's chosen people." he responded. "It is not my permission to grant, but I do not believe your kind need it. It is I who should be asking to accompany you." he said. Catherine nodded, and took a tentative step towards the entrance. It was cold inside, and goosebumps quickly arose on her skin.

'Firefly.'

Catherine tensed, and looked towards the sangheili, but he regarded her as if he hadn't just heard the spoken words. Catherine very suddenly wanted to run. She wanted to bolt out of the cave, and back to her team awaiting on base. But she couldn't do that now, not here in front of the arbiter, lest she look as weak as he had originally expected. With a nervous gulp, she continued forward. The entrance was narrow, and lead into a circular tomb, light filtering in from the cracks in the ceiling. And then she saw it. "What is this?" she asked, turning in a full one-eighty as she cased the room. There was artwork adorning each section of the walls, and Catherine found that she could barely make sense of any of it. At least until her eyes landed on the face of a woman, a female with white hair, and eyes the same color as lilac flowers. Her jaw was sharp, and her lips formed in a pronounced frown. She was gorgeous, in a deadly sort of way. For some reason, Catherine felt drawn to the particular image. For some reason she felt as if she knew the other woman. Upon closer inspection, Catherine took not that she appeared in some of the other images. She had ears that came to a point, and sharp canines. Forerunner. She was definitely Forerunner.

"These murals are depictions of Forerunner history. The lives of Aniya's bloodline are depicted in every Forerunner site."

"Who?" Catherine asked, raising a brow at the unfamiliar name.

"Aniya, one of the oldest Forerunners there is record of. Her bloodline is said to be cursed in every mention of it's legend." he explained. Catheirne felt a chill run down her spine, but also a small thrill.

"What's the curse?"

"Many have studied what history of the Forerunners is available to us. It's been unidentifiable, but every member of her bloodline is said to have had their story appear on the timeline that stretches throughout the galaxy. This place is likely a small piece of that timeline." he explained. Catherine only snorted. The alien was messing with her then, that was it.

"Ok, but how did it actually get here?" she asked. He simply stared at her for a moment, and Catherine suddenly realized that he actually _believed _the bullcrap. "Really? You actually think there's a curse or something?" she asked.

"We know very little about the Forerunners, but it is recorded that they dabble in magic. Maybe A little too much." Catherine felt her jaw go slack, and she suddenly felt a little less crazy about the voice that had been in her head the past month. No, now she was terrified.

"Why did you bring me here?" she asked suddenly. Thel's body moved in what Catherine could only guess was a shrug.

"I am very curious about this 'project forerunner' your commander has mentioned your involvement in. I was merely curious to see what would happen if I brought you here." he explained.

"That sounds like you wanted to see if some ancient being would strike me dead." she accused. A sound left the sangheli's four jawed mouth, and Cat was sure it was a chuckle.

"I would not put a life the demon valued in such danger. Not after the unfortunate demise of Avery Johnson." he said, and Catherine fell silent. She'd met Avery Johnson a few times, and she'd admittedly liked the marine a lot.

"You were there when he died?" she asked. "You and John?" Thel growled slightly, smacking his jaws together.

"I remember it to this day." he said. Catherine briefly wondered what it must have been like for him.

"Did he go quickly?" she found herself asking. Thel let out a remorseful chuckle.

"He 'went out with a bang.'' if I recall correctly." Catherine watched as he turned wordlessly towards the cave entrance, and a sigh escaped her lips. However, before she joined him, she couldn't help but take notice of yet another image on the wall. Two women stood side by side with the white haired woman. One with hair black as midnight, the other, a brilliant scarlet red.

"Did you find anything interesting today?" She was so lost in thought, that Catherine didn't even hear the Master Chief approach her until he was a few feet away. She couldn't stop thinking about what the Arbiter had shown her. It was disconcerting how little she actually knew about the people she had been modeled after. Catherine had taken to coming outside the base when she needed to think. What Thel had shown her was interesting, but the redhead found herself unwilling to believe it. There was a scientific explanation for what she'd seen today, there had to be. Magic wasn't real unless it was science that was yet to be understood. That was something Dr. Halsey had always said. But the more Catherine thought on it, the more it concerned her. A small part of her was tempted to see if she could track down Fayree, maybe force some answers out of here, but there was something distinct about being around the Forerunner that made Catherine feel put off.  
"Chief, you fought the didact in person-" she watched as he tensed, his approach slowing as he stepped over a rotting log that occupied the forest floor. "What do you know about the Forerunners?" she asked carefully. He seemed thoughtful for a moment, before letting out an impending huff.

"There are four classes of Forerunners, the librarian explained it as different races of the same species. I didn't understand it very well, but there wasn't time for her to explain everything to me." he said. "She mentioned something to Cortana about the stronger of the classes resembling the gene makeup of humanity the most, hence the reason we were chosen to inherit the mantle of responsibility over one of the other species." Catherine had noted that Faeyrie appeared to look a little more human than what she'd heard the didact to be described as. It had been the one think throwing her off thus far.

"What differences are there, I mean, other than appearance, what did you notice about him, or the librarian even-"

"I thought we discussed this already." The firm tone caught her off guard, and Catherine felt as if she had been scolded. Her eyes met John's, and she noted the steel resolve hiding there.

"Why does it bother you if I'm curious about Forerunners?" she asked defensively. This was not a conversation John wanted to be having right now. He'd told her that this was a dangerous subject to go prodding in. However, her next question surprised him even more. "Are you as apprehensive of me? I'm a part of project Forerunner, do you understand what that entails?"

"It means you were injected with artificially crafted Forerunner DNA in an attempt to enhance your capabilities. It means that at your core, you are still human, it means that you are _vulnerable._"

"What, like Cortana?" Catherine regretted the venom in her voice instantly. She hadn't meant to bring that up. Hell, she'd been advised not to.

"Yes." She watched in surprise as his shoulders slumped, something she never really saw out of him. "That was my fault. I put humanity first, and that's exactly what I should have done. But there's no humanity at stake now. My mission for the time being is keeping you alive and integrating you into this team." the finality in his words had her stomach sinking. He wasn't just angry. No, he was regretful and bitter. There was a silent danger to this sort of anger. He didn't raise his voice, or grit his teeth, but the seething calm that rolled off of him in waves was louder than any shouting he could send at her. Her head dipped slightly, and she shook her head. She couldn't get answers from him either then.

"I'm sorry." she offered, hoping to soothe the tension between them. She didn't necessarily like being at odds with John if it could be helped. At first she hadn't minded, but it had become harder to deal with the sour bickering as their time together progressed.

He nodded, taking a seat next to her. There was no offer of forgiveness on the subject, no 'its ok' and Catherine took that for what it was. It was most certainly not _ok_. She opened her mouth to change the subject, tell him about what she had found in the caves, but closed her mouth when she realized she'd only be adding fuel to the fire. "We didn't see much today. I hope we see some serious action soon, I'm getting bored out here." she admitted. The first month on Sanghelios had been enjoyable, but now she was yet again craving some action. She didn't like war, or the destruction it brought, neither was she fond of the scent of blood in the air, as battle raged on around her, but Catherine wanted adventure. It was all she had ever wanted. She remembered being a child in the confines of an orphanage, crawling to the roof to look at the stars, and wondering what exactly was out amongst the mysterious dark sky.

"Lasky didn't send us here for action. He sent us here for you to recover, and for us to try and build a bridge between the Sangheli and humanity." he reconciled.

"The doctors cleared me weeks ago-"

"I'm not talking about you getting shot Cath." he said abruptly. And they were arguing again. It hadn't even been two whole minutes since their last argument, and here they were, about to do it all over again, she mused. "You've been off kilter for a while. Lasky sees it too, that's half the reason he put you with us."

"Tom knows I've never been _on_ kilter. Not since Alice-" the words trailed off on her lips, and Catherine felt her voice crack unceremoniously. Her mouth had had the audacity to move faster than her head, and now she'd gone and said more than she had meant to. "There's nothing new with me. Actually, that's just it. You're new. I have to factor four other people into the equation now, do you know what that's like?" she asked, snarling slightly.

She was doing it again, he realized. She was starting an argument to distract him from the cracking of her shell. Like redirecting the attention of a siege while the damages in a barrier were repaired. John wasn't going to let her patch the holes up that easily however, and he took a risk with his next barrage.

"I had _seventy-four_ people to add to _every_ equation. You know how many of them are left?" he asked. His voice had lost that stern tone, and now he spoke softly. Catherine's face flushed, embarrassment flooding her for the job she had made.

"I didn't mean it like that-"

"No, you didn't." he agreed. "And you're right. You have four of us, and we have one you. And that's just it. You have room to mess up. We don't. _I_ don't." He wasn't used to having to speak this much. His words had never been of much importance before, and so for the longest time he hadn't used many, but that wasn't the case now. With Catherine, words seemed to be everything, and John felt as if he was scrambling to find the right ones.

"I...I'm replaceable." she said simply.

"That's true." he agreed. He could easily pick someone else, a Spartan IV even, if anything ever happened to her.

"Then why should it matter?" she picked, and John shook his head, standing to his feet.

"Think on it."

Kelly was an intuitive person. She could read when something was amiss in someone merely by comparing their current behavior to that of their usual behavior. It was something Linda struggled with greatly, but when Catherine trudged through their little abode to her quarters that evening, both Spartans had figured out that something wasn't right.

"Are we supposed to do something about that?" Kelly gave her sister a flat look, silent answer that, yes, they were supposed to do something about that. "Because if we are I don't know what." Linda added.

"I had thought John would have fixed it by now." the lilt in her voice gave away her disappointment in the situation at hand. "I thought we were difficult to understand. I see now that Catherine has us all greatly outdone in that respect. Linda merely grunted in agreement.

"She doesn't look healthy. She's not sleeping. I don't even see her at the mess, I can only hope she's eating."

"She was there for breakfast." Kelly gave Fred a withering look as he shuffled down the stairs. The Spartan took a seat with the two women at the table barely big enough for a card game. "Don't look at me like that, the walls are thin here. Let's be honest, John is doing an awful job at handling her, and he's getting damn tired of it." he complained.

"Fred, he's doing his best." Kelly argued, and Linda suddenly became very silent.

"Yeah but are we? He's not going to put up with this forever. How do we know he's not going to up and decide to hand her off to someone else?" he asked bluntly!

"John would never do that!" Kelly exclaimed, aghast that her brother would even suggest such a thing.

"We don't know John as well as we used to. Ever since the librarian did whatever she did to him, he's been different. We were apart for years Kelly. John will always be my brother, but I can't just sit here and trust that he alone knows what's best for Catherine." he didn't mean to raise his voice, but the lieutenant had had enough of keeping quiet with his worries. "What if he decides that she's a danger, or that her state of mental health needs to be handed over to someone else? I read the report, he shared it with me after her psych eval. She hates it when people go poking around in her head, if he hands her over to a doctor she's just going to get worse."

The distinct sound of light feet fleeing up the stairs caught the attention of both Fred and Kelly, who's gazes joined Linda's towards the stairs. "Good job Fred." Kelly said sardonically at the sound of a door slamming shut. Catherine's door, to be exact. Fred let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I've never met anyone who took to us as if we were actually normal. She treats us like people, not like weapons, or machines. I know there's a good heart in her. I don't want to see it go to waste."

"He's right." Linda spoke up suddenly. "When we were on Infinity, she'd bother me. A lot. It was the most time someone has chosen to spend in my company of their own free will in a long time." If one thing about Catherine was obvious, it was that she cared for very few people, but those few, she cared for them dearly. Linda supposed it was a good thing she didn't get attached to people very easily, for there were many that would take advantage of loyalty like Catherine's. Actually, when Linda thought about it, that made sense. She couldn't help but wonder just how many had taken advantage of her in the past. "I think Fred is right. Wejust might be her last chance." it was comical really. The last people Linda would expect to be the ones for the job were her siblings, and yet, there they were.

Her nightmares were vivid that night. Detailed like never before. So clear, in fact, that she felt as if she were actually awake, and not exactly in haze-like state that most dreams appeared to be in. She smelled blood, and smoke. There was fire, so bright, and red, and full of emotion. The rhythmic _drip-drop_ echoed in her mind, and Catherine clawed at her ears as if she could rip the ability to hear from them. Then there was a figure stepping slowly towards her, arms outstretched, beckoning her towards it. At first, Catherine thought it was Faeyree, the silhouette of pointed ears apparent on the person's head. But the image became clearer, and Catherien realized that the person before her was not Faeyree. Lilac eyes that held a deep panic, swirling with regret met her own emerald gaze.

'Time is running out Firefly.`` It wasn't the woman before her that spoke, but the air around them both seemed to ripple. 'Soon there will be nothing left for you to save'

Catherine awoke with a scream lodged in her throat. Her body felt as if it were on fire, as if the heat from her very dreams had transferred into the real world. Her skin itched and stung oddly enough, and a sense of fatigue washed over her in waves. Cat forced her lungs to accept the oxygen around her, breathing heavily until her panting ceased. She moved slowly from her cot, discarding her sweat drenched blanket on the floor as she left her room, heading for the bathroom a few paces down the hall. Her eyes were bleary, and she fumbled with the faucet handle as she turned on the sink.

In one fluid motion, she dunked her head under the stream of water, before lifting her head back up, and wiping the droplets of water from her face. Her eyes settled on her reflection in the mirror, and this time, the scream really did leave her lips.


	18. Q&AShort Story notice

Alright people, down to business. Chapter 18 will be an opportunity for Q&A. Leave a review with any questions you may have, pertaining to the characters, plot, ect. And I'll feature the answers at the begining of chapter 19. That being said, Chapter 19 is already finished, but very few of you have gotten a chance to read chapter 17, and those of you that have, haven't left any reviews. Hopefully this little break chapter will give you all some time to catch up. Also, I'm planning to insert a short story, completely unrelated to the cannonity of the fic, be it au or something else, so leave a review including what kind of short you'd like to see.


	19. Where Trust Doesn't Bloom

Hello Readers! Welcome to Q&A! As promised I return with both a new chapter and answers to your questions. This took me a little longer than expected to post seeing as my old laptop finally kicked the bucket, but I was finally able to invest in a Mac so here we go!

Stormclaw5103- I'm glad you're enjoying the story so far. I have the Spartans set in their early 30s. I'm gonna estimate about 32 for John, maybe 30 for Kelly, and Fred and Linda are somewhere between them. Catheirne on the other hand, is the good old age of 28. To help to paint a better picture in your head, I'll give you a few extra details as well. John has brown hair and blue eyes, a scar on his top lip, a wide roman nose, and is the tallest of his siblings. Fred has slightly darker brown hair, closer to raven if I'm being technical, and has tea green eyes with a scar running over the bridge of his nose. Kelly had medium length brown hair and brown eyes. She's got a british accent, a scar on her left cheek, and has soft, mousy features. Linda on the other hand has red hair, although it's more of an auburn unlike Catherine's scarlet, and she has very angular features, as well as hazel eyes. Kelly has a slightly more muscular build than Linda, and Fred is a bit bulkier, wheras John is a little more tall and lanky, compared to other Spartans.

Kannycayde- Oh boy. Alright I probably should have explained this earlier but Unamed for Now is the actual name of the story. Cause Catherine is just kind of a big question mark. She has no name, no origin story, no family. But that's all about to change. I was trying to be clever with the title.

Mafer173- Phelicity is more of a helping AI, who takes care of interacting with the crew to free up some of Rolands time, ya know, so he doesn't have all these subroutines running at once. She and Roland are kind of the top dog AI's at the moment, and yes, she is brand new. As for Halo 5, I will be bringing in some of the events, but this story won't follow into Infinite. I intend a very different outcome, plot even, than what transpired in halo 5.

Thanks for reviewing! Now then, on with the story!

There was no distinctual red hair, and for a moment, The short cropped white hair had her mistaking herself for a ghost. Catherine backed away from the image until her back hit the wall behind her, the contact drawing a jump from her. This was not normal, it had never happened before. A movement on her skin caught her eye, and she brought her palm closer to her face, inspecting the way her viens seemed to almost glow under her skin, a dark blue shining through her tissues. No, this was decidedly not normal.

"Catherine?" her head whipped in the direction of the door. John. What was she supposed to tell him? She couldn't just explain what was happening to her team if she had no idea what was happening herself. Her eyes settled on the door, and she took a deep breath, an attempt to keep her voice from shaking.

"I'm fine, Chief." she called. "It was just a spider, those buggers are huge out here." A touch of humor would hopefully mask the terror in her voice. She heard a rumble outside the door, sounding as if he had told the rest of the team to go back to bed, and he likely did the same. Her hands settled on the wall behind her, and she shimmied to the floor. Her legs suddenly feeling as if they may not support her. She needed to rationalize the situation before her, before it got far too out of hand.

What was she to do now? If she told John, what would his reaction be? In light of their conversation earlier that day, she couldn't help but suspect he wouldn't take the information well. Would he turn her over to ONI? That thought alone instigated yet another question. What would ONI do to her if they saw this? With shaking hands, she brought her hands to her ears, and sure enough, what used to be a round slope, was now a perfect little point.

Well, it seemed Faeyree wasn't the only Forerunner anymore. It was beginning to make sense now. How she alone had survived project Forerunner. She wasn't simply more biologically fit than the others. In truth, Dr. Halsey hadn't really given her anything she didn't already have.

A knock sounded on the door, and Catherine felt her body tense. Faerie had warned her this would happen, and her advice had been not to trust her team with this information. This was going to sorely complicate her relationship with the team, hell, it may even compromise her position as a field agent.

"Catherine, a word?" he was still there! She got to her feet slowly, taking in her appearance with a resigned disdain. She needed to get back to normal. Right now.

"Come on Cat, calm down." she whispered to herself. If she could just get her appearance back to normal, everything would be fine. 'Close your eyes. Breath in and out, nice and slow.' she coached herself. Her eyes opened tentatively a moment later, and she was relieved to find that her scarlet tresses had returned, as well as the normal curvature of her ears. She had hardly felt a thing, save for the slight tremor that had passed from her toes to the crown of her head. She supposed she had...shifted? Yes, shifted was a good word to describe what had just transpired.

"Cath-" John paused when the bathroom door suddenly creaked open. He gave her a quick once over, noting how unnervingly pale her face was.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake anyone." she said, taking a step into the hallway, intending to slide past him, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

"I was already awake." he stated, his voice lowered, so as not to disturb the other members of their team. "I wanted to speak with you for a moment." he nodded in the direction of the stairs, and Catherine eyed him warily. "I'll say please if you like, but it isn't a request."

A sigh escaped her lips, and she made her way to descend the stairs, before seating herself on the plain, standard sofa, positioned to the side of a short coffee table. John joined her there a moment later, a canteen of water in his hand. He offered it to her, and she accepted the drink. She was admittedly rather thirsty after having woken up drenched in sweat, heaving her lungs out in fright. "If this is about earlier-"

"It's not." he assured her quickly. "I- we-" he corrected. "-are worried about you. It's clear you're not sleeping well. Why is that?" he asked. Catherine shook her head.

"I'm getting enough sleep to function." she argued. The answer seemed to displease him even more.

"To function. That's not good enough. I need you as alert as possible Cat. We're on an alien planet under civil war. We may not have any strenuous tasks for the time being, but that could change. Quickly." The redhead took special care not to meet his eyes, but tried to seem engaged in what he was saying.

"I'll handle it, I promise. You don't need to worry about it." she assured him offhandedly. He seemed to contemplate her words for a moment, as if he were weighing them to what he was about to say next.

"You said you haven't been…'ok' since Alice. What did you mean?" he asked. The way her eyes widened, and her spine see,ed to stiffen had John wanting to take the question back.

"It's nothing important. Just something that's been on my mind lately." Something that shouldn't have been on her mind at all. She should have left those memories in that past a long time ago, and yet, here they were, haunting her years later. He nodded slowly, letting out a puff of air through his nose as he leaned back in his seat.

"You had a nightmare earlier. I could hear your sudden heartbeat increase." he said, feeling the need to explain himself when a frantic look appeared on her face.

"I didn't know you could hear that well." she stated rather dumbly, and he couldn't help but chuckle.

"You're so quick to forget what we are." The Chief pointedly accused, a soft curve to his lips.

"You're people." she stated simply, and for a solid moment, John felt his breath hitch.

'Promise me you'll find out which one of us is the machine.'

He eyed her for a moment, and Catheirne intently stared ahead. After a moment, he too raised his sights to the glass window, where the first specs of daylight were peaking over the horizon. His eyes fell closed, and the Spartan bit his lip, restraining the gut wrenching emotion that flickered in his chest.

"Yes. And no." he contemplated aloud, and her gaze finally settled on him. "We're human...but far too flawed to be considered _people_." he stated. He was no fool to just how out of his depth normality was. He wasn't familiar with basic, non-military social cues, and his understanding of other humans set him apart from them considerably.

"All people are flawed." she said, a yawn preceding her statement. "We're all born with the same potential for good and evil, it's what we choose to do with the hand we're dealt that counts." She should know, after all. She had spent too many years making the wrong choices, as if it was her way of voicing her displeasure with the universe and the short end of the stick it had dealt her. In the end however, she had done nothing more than ruin her own life even further, and for that, she was the only one to blame.

John contemplated her statement for a moment. His answer to Cortana's question had wavered back and forth for some time now. Deep down, he knew he was to self aware, knew that he felt too much to be considered a genuine machine, but when he thought about it, Cortana hadn't exactly fit into that category either. "Then what do you think makes someone human?" he couldn't help but ask the question. She was quiet for a moment, and John didn't expect to get an answer until he did.

"The Greeks called it _agape_. It's….love, but at the same time it isn't. It's more general than that. It's that unexplainable connection we feel as humans in general. Ask yourself this, you sacrificed a lot to save humanity, why?" John thought that was an easy question.

"Because it's our duty as soldiers to-"

"No."

No? What did she mean no? His duty as a soldier outranked...well...everything. "I don't follow." he admitted.

"What holds you to that duty? How do you know it wouldn't be wrong to leave protecting others to someone else? It would make your life easier, so why not?" he could tell the question was more condescending than serious. What he stood for was right, but she wanted to make him think about _why_ he stood for it. "You care about those people, not individually, but as a whole. Deep down, you understand that they feel. You understand that because you feel too, and it makes you care. That's agape. I think that's what makes us human." she explained. That was something Alice had taught her. Everyone had something they cared about, and it made them human, more so than simply being flesh and bone.

She thought with morbid amusement, that after the nights events she should be questioning her humanity if anything, but she found that she wasn't. The word had been given a different meaning over the course of time, back when they had been the only known species in existence. Catheirne wasn't foolish enough to believe that the traits associated with the term solely belonged to one race alone. Even the sangheili seemed to have some sense of the idea behind the term.

"So then, you agree that to be human is more than having a living body with a beating heart and a working brain?" Catheirne raised a brow at the question, but nodded all the same.

"I'd say so." For some reason, the revelation both comforted him, and made him ache all the more. They sat in silence after that, to his relief. He didn't much feel like talking anymore.

She wanted to trust him. Wanted to so badly that before she could think better of it, she opened her damned mouth. "Come with me to the caves later. There's something there I wanna show you."

Catherine wasn't sure when she drifted off, nor was she sure how long she had slept for. The first thing she registered was the sound of footsteps moving about around her. Usually, she would have ignored it, but what little of her brain was conscious reminded her that she should have been in a private room, and there was absolutely no reason for her to hear such sounds. She willed her eyes to open, but the light shining through the bay window had her shutting her eyes again. It took her a moment to reorient herself, and once she did, she wished she hadn't. The giant of a man she'd been leaning on didn't so much as budge when she placed a hand their shared seat and pushed herself off his shoulder, but he did open his eyes, his gaze turning towards her. "When did I…" she trailed off, a sheepish look on her face as she noted where a puddle of her own drool had formed on his shirtsleeve.

"About three hours ago." he answered. He had been surprised when he'd been pulled from his thoughts to find her slouched against him, and at first he had been tempted to wake her. But she'd looked so tired, had for weeks to be honest, and he'd decided she could do to have a little extra rest. "You needed it." he insisted before she could say he should have woken her.

"You'd probably have slept another hour of Fred hadn't been walking so loudly." Kelly piped up from her seat at the table. Most of her attention was on the data-pad that lay in her hands.

"Not my fault I didn't know there was any reason to be sneaking around." Catherine's head swiveled in the direction of the table, where Frederick had occupied himself with a mug of coffee, while Linda and Kelly seemed absorbed in their own individual research. Of course they were all already up.

"There wasn't." Catherine mumbled, feeling much like a stack of cardboard boxes in the middle of a highway. An annoyance that didn't belong. "I need to get dressed, what's on today's list?" she asked as John rolled his shoulders. He'd taken great care not to move for several hours.

"You said something about wanting to show me something. Why don't we start there." Ah yes. That.

"About that, I uhh, I think I need to see Thel, he mentioned something about a historian with records of-" she hesitated. "-Forerunner history, pertaining to what we found yesterday." she expected his mood to shift considerably, but he merely raised a brow at her.

"And this is important because?" he asked. He was giving her a chance to explain the relevance of Forerunner history to their mission, a reaction she hadn't expected.

"Thel was hoping maybe I could help him decipher some of it. It's a bit of a stretch, but I figured you might be able to help, and whatever is already archived on Sanghelios would be a bonus." and she needed to figure out if being in that cave had anything to do with her 'transformation' last night. Like hell she was going to tell him that though.

"Alright." he agreed after a moment of contemplation, and Catherine's pinched expression turned to one of relief.

Catherine was glad to see the entrance of the cave when she did. She wasn't sure how much more jostling from the warthog she could take. The mountain path wasn't exactly a smooth ride. She jumped out of the vehicle, and slowly approached the cave's mouth.

"Lineage divides us?" Catherine's head snapped up to her commander, taking in the quirk of his brow.

"What?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"The markings on the entrance, they say 'Lineage divides us.' Although I can't quite make out the second part, there isn't exactly an equivalent to whatever it says in our language." he explained, and Catherine looked at him as he had grown another head. "Ever since my encounter with the librarian, I've been able to read Forerunner hieroglyphs. It would be a lot more useful if any of it made any sense."

And Catherine found herself becoming curious all over again. What had the librarian been like? More importantly, what had she done to John that allowed him to read such script? The Spartan beside her, approached the cave, entering it with his hand in close proximity to the pistol on his hip. It had been a while since she had seen him in armor, and she found herself becoming familiar with the smattering of freckles on his face, as opposed to the green and gold helmet. She hadn't realized the ceiling was so low, until John was having to duck his head in order not to his it.

"What exactly did you want me to see here?" he asked, taking a full one-eighty of the cave.

"Nothing specific, can you make out anything else?" she asked. His eyes settled on something behind her, then narrowed considerably. "What?" he neglected to answer her inquiry, and instead took a few measured steps towards her.

"What _exactly _did Thel say this place was?" he asked. The question struck her as odd, but she complied with an answer none the less.

"He said that Forerunner History appeared here, something to do with a curse, it didn't make a lot of sense."

"And how _exactly_ did he say it got here?" he kept using that word, as if he suspected she was leaving out some sort of important detail.

"I...he said...it just sort of...appears. He said that it's rumored there are more places like this one all over the galaxy." she explained. "But that's not possible, I mean, that's a little too close to the line. There's a difference between science and actual, impossible anomalies-" his hand gripped her shoulder, swiveling her around, only for her to find something she had expected. Something that had her taking a cautious step back. The surface of the wall ...was moving. Reshaping itself into a picture of some sort.

"You were saying about anomalies?" there was a gravely edge to his voice that Catherien took to mean he was just as unsettled by the sight as she was. Suddenly, the image stilled, and Catherine was able to make out what the picture was. Faeyree. But that wasn't possible, she had just met Faeyree. The Forerunner was by now means a historic figure, not if she was still around. John didn't move for a moment, but Catheirne immediately took the opportunity to inspect the other walls around them. Then she saw it. There was a lone image, sectioned away on a blank space of wall. A line separating two faces, one with red hair, the other white. _Her _face. This wasn't History, she realized. No, this was a damn news stream, and the walls were broadcasting events that had more or less just happened.

Her head shot back in the direction of the image of her newest acquaintance that had, much to her disbelief, actually appeared before them only moments ago. 'I'm not so different from you.' That had been her warning. She was Forerunner, as impossible as it seemed. Just how long had this woman been looking out for her?

"Who is that?" John mumbled, reaching out to tentatively touch the wall. Nothing happened in response.

"I don't know." She lied through her teeth, and a surge of guilt hit her head on. "But she sure as hell looks like she's in a lot of trouble." She appeared to be in a holding cell of some sort, but what concerned Catherine the most, was the pool of red surrounding Faeyree's image. It appeared that she had drawn something around herself, a set of connected dots that made little sense in Catherine's mind. Even her analysis couldn't quite make sense of it. "Alright, that can go on the very top of my 'freakiest things I've seen on duty' list."

John let out a dry huff. "I wish I could say the same." he allowed his fingers to trail the surface of the cave wall, but stopped suddenly when he came to an odd divet. Strange, he thought. The rest of the cave was fairly smooth. Wait.

Cautiously, he pressed his hand against the uneven space in the wall, and the sound of a click caught Catherine's attention. The wall slid open, and Catherine's jaw went slack at the sight of what could only be a hidden tunnel system through the mountain.

"That's...actually really cool." she said, a breathy laugh escaping her. She looked to John's face, awaiting his call eagerly. "We're going in there, right?" she asked. He looked momentarily between her and the passage.

"Wait here. There's a searchlight in the hog." A grin broke out on the redhead's face. Finally, some good old fashioned adventure.

The passage was small, and cramped, but the Chief managed to fit through, following behind Catherine, shining a light from behind her. At first, He had thought it eventually came to a dead end, but upon closer inspection, he realized there was yet another door. There was a lever attached to a thick metal panel, and John realized that the door was only made to look like stone. "Someone didn't want people poking around down here apparently." Catherine stated. Her hand gripped the lever, and with a strenuous amount of force, she was able to push it downward. A click sounded as the mechanisms keeping the obstacle locked in place were released, and as the door slid open, a sudden gust of air blew past them, ruffling Catherine's bangs gently.

"There's probably an opening on the mountainside trapping air in the tunnels." he rationalized. It was dark, so dark that Catheirne couldn't see anything, at least until some sort of system kicked in, and a series of emergency lights came to life.

"Nor turning back after this." she voiced. John huffed in response, taking slow steps through the doorway. On the other side, it widened out into what appeared to be...a lab? "No way." she mumbled, pushing past the spartan. "A Forerunner laboratory. I can't believe it." she mumbled, looking around in awe. There were jars containing various fluids, notebooks full of scribblings, and ...cages. There were cages. "What were they doing here?" she asked turning to face the Spartan. She was expecting him to be taking it all in with curiosity, but instead, there was a look of mild terror in his blue eyes. "What?" she asked as his eyes flicked around the room rapidly. His pistol was already in his hand, and she could tell by the posture of his raised shoulders that he sensed danger.

"That smell…"he almost sounded as if he were choking on air.

"It's a lab that's probably centuries old Chief, of course it smells-"

"It smells like the gravemind." he cut her off. He looked as if he expected something truly awful to come bursting through the floor. John knew that horrible stench all too well. It had been rolling of the flood in waves. It smelled of death, but something else was there with it. Something wrong, very wrong.

"Maybe that's what they were experimenting with! Maybe something went wrong and they sealed this place away because of it!" she realized. The sound of John's pistol caulking drew her eyes back to his face, and she noted how pale he appeared. Was he genuinely afraid? Sure, the flood was a nightmare, at least that was what she had heard, but to have the Master Chief so on edge? It seemed almost unbelievable.

"We should get out of here." No sooner than after the words left his lips, did the emergency lights go out, plunging the room into darkness. Caatherine didn't dare to breath, afraid of making so much as a single sound. But then-

"Chief...why are you holding my hand?" A choked noise escaped the Spartan as he swiveled in the direction of her voice.

"I'm not."

A Scream ripped from her lungs as icy fingers wrapped around her wrist, and seconds later, a light flashed in her eyes before a loud band sounded. The creature screamed, and John knew he had hit his mark. He caught a brief glance before he yanked Catherine in the direction of the door, and began running for his bloody life. There was no sound of footsteps behind them, but John didn't take that to mean it hadn't taken to chasing them. He heard the creature cry out once more, and in a split second, he threw Catherine over his shoulder and broke out in a sprint that would have made Kelly proud. He didn't stop until he passed through that damed doorway, and he began to fiddle with the lever to no avail.

"It's manual!" Cat cried as she began pushing on the door. John pressed his back against the surface, and began to push. The door slowly but surely budged, locking into place when it was once again closed. Catherine was just about to stop and breath when the Chief grabbed her by the wrist, dragging her away from the cave, all the way back to their awaiting hog.

"We need to tell Thel-"

"Where do you think I'm going?" John snapped, shoving the key into the ignition. This place needed to be put off limits. Immediately. Catherine slumped against her seat, forcing herself to take slow, even breaths. "Are you alright?" the softness of his tone surprised her, and she merely nodded.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" she joked. He didn't find it very amusing if the downward quirk of his lips was anything to go by.


	20. Crazy is the Standard

Hey Guys, thanks for all the feedback! Enjoy~

"And you're sure this was what you saw?" Thel Vadume seemed highly disturbed by the news she and the Chief provided, and she almost felt bad about putting yet another thing on his plate. The Sanghilli already seemed to have a lot on his plate, and it was obvious that he felt a slight irritation at being presented with yet another problem. The tent they had moved to speak privately in rattled when the wind blew a little harder, and Catherine huffed.

"I'm sure. The area needs to be sectioned off entirely." John answered. Thel nodded his reptilian head in agreeance.

"It will become a priority immediately. Is there any reason either of you should be quarantined?" John shook his head in response.

"It was a close call, but not that close." The Spartan's head turned towards Catherine, but she neglected to make eye contact with him. She'd been distant the past few hours, unusually quiet and trying her best to keep her distance from him. If the arbiter noticed, he didn't comment on her suddenly hostile behavior.

"Good. I appreciate you meeting with me so urgently on the matter. Unfortunately I have equally important problems to handle. I'll pass the task on to someone I know will deal with it accordingly. For now, you should both take some time to rest. Make sure you are as unaffected by the parasite as you appear to be." he advised.

"Blue Team will help with the facilitation, I'll send them to meet your people at the site. I'll see to it that we're both screened in the meantime." Catherine tensed at the declaration from her commander. A full body scan would be highly invasive, and may or may not pick up on what had been going on with her. She didn't need anyone finding out her secrets, especially considering John's attitude towards anything Forerunner.

"Is something wrong 005?" her green eyes the alien's rust colored gaze, and something in that look made her want to shiver. He knew. She didn't know how, but he knew.

"I don't think that will be necessary. A little downtime is all I need." she argued. John's eyes narrowed at her, a suspicious air about him.

"You can't diagnose yourself-"

"I'm tired, and I'm going home." She shouldn't have raised her voice at him, and as soon as she realized she had, she winced. He was silent for a beat, before raising his hand to point in the direction of the exit, towards the hog they had arrived in.

"Wait outside." it was an order, one she didn't dare meet his eyes while receiving. She didn't argue with him, and silently exited the tent.

"I'm sorry, that was...unexpected. I don't know what's gotten into her." she was tempted to shoot a glare at him, but knew it would be pointless. Instead, she waited just outside, listening to them draw the briefing to a close.

"No one handles encounters with the parasite as you and your Spartans did. It's not uncommon for-" Catherine didn't bother to listen to the rest of Thel's excuse on her behalf. Instead, she started walking. Not to the hog though. She supposed if she started in the direction of the base, she'd get there eventually. She would not be going to the medical facility with John, no matter how much he yelled at her, or how many exercises he threatened to make her do. She'd do all the push ups in the world if it meant he never found out about what was laying dormant under her skin.

She was going to have one hell of a time keeping this from the rest of the team. A part of her wanted to know how. What had Halsey done to her to make her like this? Or more importantly, how much of it was her doing? She didn't know where she came from, was it really so absurd to think she hadn't originated on Earth? All this time, she'd viewed the Mountains of Tennessee as her origins. Maybe her beginning had been out here, among all that was considered wrong with the universe. It made sense, as she'd always been put in that category all her life. Catherine the mistake, Catherine the mystery, Catherine the unnamed impossibility that existed despite all odds.

It wasn't long after she started walking that she realized it may not have been as good of an idea as she had thought. Her feet were sore, it was getting dark, and she was maybe halfway to the base by now. Her comms had been silent, and she wasn't sure if that was John's way of saying he didn't care, or if he was reserving a brutal reprimand for when she arrived. He likely hadn't been too happy to find that she had up and left when he finished his meeting with the Arbiter.

It was his fault though, he'd sent her out of the briefing like a parent brushed off a child. She had a right to claim her own medical rights, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let him push her into the hands of the whitecoats. She flashed an ID badge as soon as she made it to the gate, and as she entered the premises, she briefly heard the guards radio someone to alert them of her presence on base. 'Baby monitor protocol huh? That's just sad.' she thought as she approached the housing section of the base. The lights were off, and she supposed the majority of the team had gone to bed for the evening. She didn't bother trying to quiet her steps as she approached the door, but as soon as she attempted to open the door, she could have sworn she acknowledged the slightest shift in movement. He was seated there on the porch, in the dark, arms crossed over his body, legs stretched out before him, and looking more casual than she had ever known him to look.

"If you're going to-"

"If I'm going to what? Reprimand you? No, that's a waste of my time." the lilt in his usually stoic tone had her immeasurably on edge. "Let me make something clear to you. I've been in your position a million times, and I'll probably be in it a million more. I know _exactly_ how frustrated you are." he paused, taking a moment to stand to his full height, dwarfing her considerably. "But if you embarrass me like that one more time, you will wish I had you reassigned." The way his eyes glowed in the dark like a cat's was unsettling enough, but the glare that told her he was serious about his threat had her taking a step backwards.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked, her eyes narrowing as they met his gaze.

"I don't need a fifth soldier on this team. I could find a number of tasks for you that don't involve being in the field, so unless you want to find yourself waxing armor and cleaning out Linda's rifle for the next few months, I suggest you find a better way to communicate your displeasure. One that doesn't involve talking back in front of a high ranking ally." He ended his soft voiced tirade by opening the door to the flat, pushed it open, then guestured inside. "After you."

Catherine wasn't disturbed by the threat, but she knew damn well that he had meant it. She sat on her bed for quite a while, just staring at her hands, folded in her lap. She didn't blame him at all. Her behavior today had been unacceptable, and yet he was going to give her one more chance. One more chance that she would probably have to ruin in order to keep her secret. A heavy sigh escaped her lips as she rose from her perch, and approached the window on the far side of her room. This situation was far too complicated.

'Maybe I should leave now, while I still can.' she thought bitterly as she looked up at the stars above her. There was a whole universe out there that she could hide in. But at the end of the day, what did any of it matter? This job was what she loved, helping people who couldn't help themselves, discovering new places, making new scientific discoveries. She wouldn't have any of that living like a recluse on some backwater planet. Maybe if she could find a way to control this thing inside her, she would be able to stay with Blue Team. It hurt her pride to admit it, but she wanted to stay with them. Linda allowed her to confide in her, Kelly was genuinely intrigued by her artistic capabilities, and was enjoyable company, and Fred was quickly becoming the older brother she had never had. Then there was John. She had mixed feelings about the Spartan. Part of her was irritated with him, and another grateful for how much he'd given her.

A knock sounded on her door, but Catherine didn't move to open it. "It's not locked." she called, and the door creaked in response.

"You doin ok?" Frederick leaned casually against her door frame, a look of blatant concern on his face. Her emerald eyes met his tea green ones, and she felt something change in her mood. Her lip wobbled, and she bit it in response, but she couldn't help the large tear that leaked from her eye. He raised his arm in a sort of invitation, and Catherine dove into his side, burrowing her face there. "That bad huh?" he asked. Catheirne simply shook her head.

"It's not that, I just-" she listened to the steady thrum of Fred's heartbeat, and a huff escaped her lips. There was something calming about the strong beat of a Spartan. "Fred, there's something wrong with me. My augmentations, I...I don't understand them." he raised a brow at her quizzically, and squeezed on of her small shoulders.

"Cat, how long ago did you undergo the procedure?" he asked. That was a good question. How long had it been?

"Ten, eleven, something like that. Why?" she questioned.

"You're project was a failure, no offense, and you were the only one to prove compatible. It's possible that you're capable of things we aren't even aware of yet." he explained. "Eleven years isn't much time in the world of scientific research. You maybe discovering new abilities for the rest of your life for all we know." he offered. Catherine shook her head.

"No I don't think that's it. I...I'm sorry I just don't know what to do." she said, pulling back from his embrace. Frederick felt his heart tighten at the positively hopeless tone in her voice.

"You don't have to. You've got us to help you figure it out. Don't worry about it for now though. Just get some rest, we'll deal with it later." he advised. The redhead nodded, seating herself once again on her cot.

"Thanks, Fred." she said softly.

"Don't mention it. Now get some sleep, you need it." He said, before closing her door behind him.

No. Rest wasn't what she needed. What she needed was answers, and she was going to get them. There was only one person she knew of however that could give her those. And that person had only left her one clue as to her whereabouts. That pattern that had been on the cave wall, she was almost certain now that it wasn't a pattern at all, but constellations. All she had to do was find a record of the same star patterns, and route herself to those coordinates. However, that was easier said than done. She didn't recognize the star patterns, nor could she find them in the UNSC database. She was up most of the night, scrolling through a data pad for something at least similar, but there was nothing. Before she knew it, light was streaming in through the windows, and she groaned at her futile task, throwing the data-pad down to the floor, where it made an unceremonious thunk as she threw herself back in her bed.

There was a knock on her door, and Catherine groaned once more. The knock was repeated, and Catherine responded by throwing a pillow over her face, hoping to block out reality a little longer. When she failed to respond to the third knock, the door simply opened with disregard for whether or not she wanted it to.

"I hope for your sake that you're decent." The deep rasp sounded emotionless, and surprisingly unirritated to Catherine's ears.

"Most men would be disappointed if I was." she replied snarkily. The bed dipped in response, and then creaked for a moment before the weight disappeared entirely, and Cat snorted. 'He's too heavy.' she realized in amusement.

"We're unassigned for the day. Drills start after lunch. Don't be late." he said.

"You're giving us the morning off?" she asked in surprise, removing the pillow from her face. He nodded in affirmation, taking in her face with a dull look in his eyes. He looked tired. "Did something happen?" she asked.

"I was called to meet with the arbiter and other Sangheili representatives early this morning. The closest village to base was attacked last night. It wasn't discovered until patrols caught sight of the place burning down. Casualties were high." he explained, sliding idly to the floor to lean against her bed. Catherine's eyes widened in response.

"But they were Sangheli, they attacked their own people just because we happened to be stationed close by?" she asked.

"They attacked them because they _allowed_ us to be here. Once you help the enemy, the covenant doesn't view you as their own anymore." Catherine felt as if someone was holding her by the throat, making it difficult to breath.

"Were there any survivors?" she asked, moving to sit on the bed beside where he had positioned himself on the floor.

"We're planning a counter attack as soon as we have more intel-"

"John." he stopped speaking, and looked up at her with an emotionless mask.

"There were two survivors." he stated hoarsely. Only two. They must have been traumatized, she thought. However, she was more concerned with how unsettled her commander looked over the matter. "Catherine ...you can't go disappearing anymore." he said. She felt taken aback by the sudden declaration.

"How is this my fault-"

"That's not what I'm saying." he interrupted. "I waited up for you last night but I didn't think there was any reason to go out looking for you. Had you been out just a few hours later you could have been caught up in that, and I never would have known. I realize now that I should have been more concerned with where you were, that's on me, but I can't have you running off whenever you like. Not while this place is in an all out civil war." he explained. Catherine wasn't sure what to say to that. She hadn't even been in the situation he had imagined, and he was already acting as if she was dead and it was his fault.

"Chief, I'm a lot more capable than you give me credit for. If I had been there I could have helped."

"I'm not trying to discredit your capability. But you're one person, and a very hard headed one at that. You take on more than you know how to handle, and you seem to have no comprehension of your own limits."

"You're not listening to me! I've been doing this for years!"

"And I've been doing it longer."

"Longer or better? You don't think I'm worth Crap as a soldier do you!"

"That's not what I'm saying!"

She hadn't expected to hear him yell. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, before returning to his monotone composure. "Chief-"

"I can't lose you too. There. I said it." The words had her next retort faltering before it could leave her lips. "I let Cortna out of my sight, and I lost her. I failed. I'm willing to accept the possibility that that wasn't completely my fault, but if I let the same happen to you then that makes me the only one to blame. No excuses this time. You're my responsibility." he stated

"Because you think I'm weaker than you. Give me a chance to prove I'm not." She supposed it must have sounded absurd, something from her, to him of all people. Despite her better judgement, she let her hand fall to his shoulder, and let it sit there for a moment. He didn't ask her to move it, nor did he acknowledge its presence.

"I can't take that risk. I hope you can take that for what it's worth." he said, standing from the floor. "0100, don't be late." he said before exiting her room.

Thel Vadume seemed oddly surprised to see her in what she had deemed was his office of operation. He was bent over a digital map, displaying the terrain between base and the Swords of Sanghelios's headquartes when she approached him. "Good morning Arbiter, how are you this morning?" she asked.

"Your kind rarely question my state of being, but I am well." he confirmed.

"That's because most people are rude. Or like John, they don't see the value in a proper greeting." she said, a cheeky smile on her face. He chuckled softly at her in response.

"You want something." he acknowledged, and Catheirn smacked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

"If that's how it's going to be, yeah, I do." she admitted. "I'm looking for some specific constellations, I don't have any data on them, do you think any of your systems would?" she asked, digging the toe of her boot into the floor. His mandibles clicked casually as he considered her.

"There is much we have recorded that your race does not. It would not be unlikely that we have what you are looking for." he admitted.

"And you'd be willing to give me access to this information?" she asked, hoping the Sanghelli would adhere to her request.

"If I may ask…" he began, and Catherine raised a brow. "Does the Demon know anything of your research?" Catheirne frowned slightly at that. She already knew of whom he was referring to.

"Does it matter?" she asked, tone even and open to whatever he had to say in response.

"I know things about you. Things I suspect he does not." Catherine felt a pit form in her stomach. "I can smell it in your blood. You reek of them." he said.

"I..I dont-"

"It is no accusation. You are too young to know what ancient thing is coursing through your veins. You have questions no doubt. I have my own, after all." he assured her.

"That doesn't answer my question about John." she pointedly said.

"Yes. But you also neglected to answer mine first." So that's how it was going to be.

"No. None of them do." she said sternly, and Thel nodded his reptilian head in understanding.

"They are very fond of you. And I believe Honestly will always cost one less in the long run." he replied. "Just be sure that you are asking the right questions, when the time comes." he advised, as one clawed finger tapped the display before him, and a chart of holographic stars sprung to life around them. Her eyes settled on one cluster in particular, and a smile settled onto her face.

"I'll keep that in mind."

John decided to be nice today, for some unknown reason. Well, it wasn't as unknown as he would have liked to claim it was. Catherine was late once again, but he refused to let her untimeliness affect his temper. If he kept his head cool, relations between them would be far more pleasant. However twenty minutes quickly turned to thirty, and despite the fact that Blue team had started running drills already, Catherine still didn't make an appearance.

"What did you say to her this morning?" Frederick asked as he paused to take a sip from his water bottle. Kelly and Linda sat on the floor, stretching while their muscles were still warm from their workout. John gave him a flat look that stated quite clearly how out of line the question was, but he answered it all the same.

"Nothing that would warrant her not showing up. Something isn't right." he mumbled the last bit a little quieter than the rest of his answer.

"Maybe we should look for her?" Kelly suggested, and Linda nodded in agreement. John however, shook his head.

"No, just keep an eye out for her. I'll contact security, let them know to keep me updated if they see her." he said.

"Here we go again." Fred sighed, earning a look of parental disappointment from the Chief. "Don't look at me like that, we all know how this ends." he drawled. "I'll bet fifty push ups she's at home in bed." he added as he made his way to exit the space that served as the gym. It was nice that they'd set up a designated area for training, but it wasn't much.

"And what is something actually is wrong?" Kelly argued, planting her feet flat on the ground as she stood.

"Look at it this way, If something isn't wrong and we lose our heads, She'll just take offense, and if something isn't wrong, she'd still be annoyed with us for thinking she couldn't handle herself. Either way, I think she just wants to be left alone. If that gets her in trouble, that's not our business." Kelly didn't seem fond of that answer, but Linda didn't give her much time to object.

"If we keep pushing, we're going to push her away. She had to come to us eventually."

Catherine knew she was taking a risk. There was no other way to classify stealing a UNSC pelican and abandoning her post was likely the most gutsy idea she had ever had. And she had had a lot of gutsy ideas in her career. She had been careful to avoid anyone that looked like a high ranked official, and slipped into the closest pelican. Little did she know, there were eyes on her nearly the entire time. The Chief had been surprised to hear that she was headed in the direction of the shipyard.

At first he had wondered if they had ID'd the wrong person, but the head of red hair was unmistakable. He took off after her at a brisk pace, following her into the pelican. He was silent, the boots of his armor not even making a sound against the bulkhead of the pelican. What could she possibly be doing? There was no bloody reason that she would need to be on a pelican. She was hiding something from him, that much was for sure.

She was setting her coordinates when he reached the cockpit, and she seemed relatively unaware of his presence. At least until-

"What are you doing?" He watched her jump, and turn around so fast she nearly lost her footing.

"Oh! I uh…" her face turned pale, then bright pink, then a sickly green as she realized just how much of a pickle she was in. "Chief, I-"

"No more secrets Catherine." he said sternly, and her eyes settled on his visor. She looked….scared. Why she felt as if he was something to be afraid of he couldn't determine, but it felt unsettling.

Catherine watched as he stood motionless before her, feeling as if she were standing before a judge who was about to find her guilty. "I...can't." she said, taking a gulp at the end of her answer. John raised a brow at her, and crossed his arms.

"Why?" his raspy voice was by no means gentle, but he didn't sound rough or stern either. Catherine bit her lip in contemplation. If she told him, it was likely he would hate her, maybe even hand her off to ONI. If she didn't, he could easily have her court martialed. Did she want to be a prison rat, or a lab rat? She suddenly felt overwhelmed by the choice that stood before her. And he knew it too.

The Spartan watched as the cogs in her head seemed to turn, pushing her mind down a dark path. He wasn't sure why, but the fact that something had her so clearly frightened unnerved him. He wanted to fix it, make things right again. He wanted to help her. He wasn't sure when it had happened, but he had begun to care for her just as deeply as the rest of his Spartans. "Catherine I'm trying to help you. I can't do that if you don't keep me informed. What's going on?" She hadn't expected that, judging by the look of surprise on her face. She let out a breath she had clearly been holding.

"You never break promises right?" she asked. His hand settled on her shoulder, squeezing it gently in affirmation as he nodded. "I...I think I might not be...human." she admitted. His eyes narrowed at her in confusion, not that she could see that.

"What?" he asked, genuinely not understanding the words that came out of her mouth.

"I think I might be Forerunner. It would explain why I don't know where I came from and why I was the only successful case-"

"Cath." he sounded amused, and the sound of his voice had her pausing in a dumbfounded manor. "That-" he paused to let out an amused huff. "That's not possible. I've _seen_ Forerunners. You don't exactly fit the description." Catherine felt her face fall considerably. He thought she was crazy. No, worse than that. He thought her immature. He had regarded her concerns as if she were a child too caught up in a fantasy.

"This isn't funny! I'm serious John, this isn't a question, if I'm not Forerunner then I'm definitely _something_." she argued.

"That I can agree with." he said dryly. Her jaw dropped. He was actively humiliating her over something she was genuinely terrified over!

"Don't mock me. Don't you dare." she growled. And then it was there, that warm tingle she had felt before. What was that feeling? It felt like static in her veins. She pushed down though, not wanting to let herself fall out of control any more than she already was.

"Cath, please tell me you see how ridiculous this is?" the Chief tried to reason with her as gently as possible, but the whole situation was so screwed up it could only be considered funny. Catherine clenched her fist in frustration, trying her best to think of a way to convince him that she wasn't going crazy before he put her in a psych ward. Then it clicked.

"I can prove it. I met one, and I'm going to find her."

"Catherine-"

"No." she interrupted. "Just listen to me. I figured out what was on the wall in...that cave. It was constellations, it was a message. Faeyree left it for me." she explained. He was silent for a moment, and Catheirne wasn't sure whether or not she had finally gotten through to him.

"You..met one?" Catherine rolled her eyes at the response. Finally.

"Yes. I found her, well, actually she found me, during our investigation with the council. He was working with insurrectionists to move Forerunner tech. She helped Estrefi get rid of him in exchange for a meeting with me. That's why I kept disappearing. She knows who I am, and she warned me this would happen. I need to go, you're either coming with me, Or...or.."

Or what? She was going to kick him off the pelican? That seemed highly unlikely. She let out a deep breath, and looked straight towards his visor where she assumed his eyes would be. "Please, come with me."

John opened his mouth to speak, but found that he couldn't find any words to fill the silence. He was slightly unsettled by everything she had just admitted to him. He still wasn't sure if she was insane or not, but she seemed all too headstrong about the topic to let it go. With a sigh, he opened a com channel with the rest of Blue Team.

"Fred, you're in charge, hold things down on base, we'll be back as quickly as possible." Catherine's face lit up in relief as the Spartan took his seat as co-pilot.

"Back? What? Where are you going?" John chose not to answer the question.

"I'll explain later." he turned to Catherine who was staring at him with warry excitement. "Well?" he asked, gesturing to the pilot's seat. A grin spread across her face, as she threw herself into her seat.

"Prepare for takeoff."


	21. Misfit Christmas

Christmas is right around the corner! The most commercialized holiday of the year is upon us, but please remember that the point of the holidays isn't the gifts and decorations, but the time we spend with those we care about. Please take a page out of Cath's and spend some time with friends and family. Without further ado, enjoy our very first holiday short story.

"_we're a couple of misfits, that's where we fit in" -Rudolph _

Glittery, sparkling lights decked the bulkhead of every hall on the UNSC ship Infinity, and every inch of space seemed to be re-colored to fit the red and gold theme the ship was sporting. The atmosphere was lighter, and a sense of mirth seemed to dominate the mood of every occupant of the ship. Well, the mood of all but one. Catherine 005 was the only sourpuss residing on the fleet ship, and boy was her attitude worse than a sour gumdrop. She poked at her apple crumb cake idly as she sat amongst the cheerful marines in the mess. She was crabby, and in her opinion, it was for good reason.

"C'mon Kit-Kat. It's Christmas time. I know you're not happy about your team switch, and I know it hasn't been easy acclimating to them, but sometimes you gotta let the season distract you from life's daily dumps." Cassandra encouraged. She was awfully bouncy, and her delighted attitude was becoming taxing on Catherine's already withered nerves.

"That's easy for you to say. You have a Horace to spend Christmas with. And his family. The two of you." she mumbled. "I just wish one of my old squads was here, or some other loner who's down for hot chocolate and Christmas traditions. Blue Team doesn't seem to get any of that, not that I think they'd want to share that with me even if they did." Cassandra pursed her lips at her friend and sighed. Catherine had been lonely as of late, and her disconnection with her team wasn't helping. Part of being in the military meant you couldn't always be with your family around the holidays, If you even had one, and more often than not, a squad or a team was the usual replacement.

"Cat, you gotta give them a chance to want you. You've been playing misfit since you met them, and so far, they haven't gotten the chance to know you. Or you them for that matter. Maybe you should try introducing them to holiday traditions, I'm sure they would appreciate it." Cassandra suggested. Catherine sighed, letting her fork drop onto her plate.

"Yeah, ok." she muttered softly. Cass had a point, she hadn't technically given the individuals of Blue Team a chance at making close bonds, but the idea just seemed so ...daunting. They weren't scary by any means to her, but they were so hard to connect with. Cass stood from her seat across from the redhead, and she reached across the table to pat her shoulder.

"I'd best be off to pack, Horace is introducing me to his parents when we hit the airport, and I'd rather not be late. Have you ever seen Paris at Christmas Catherine? Doesn't it just sound so ethereal?" Cass fluttered as she gave her shoulder a friendly squeeze. She had, actually. Once. With Alice.

"Sounds...nice. Take some pictures for me, maybe you'll find something worth drawing for me." she said, offering the brunette a look that she hoped didn't come off as a grimace. Thoughts of Alice were never easy to ignore, especially the ones that left an ache in her chest cavity. Cassandra offered her a warm smile before pulling her hand back.

"Will do kitty cat."

Frederick was going to be her first victim. Out of all four Spartans, he seemed to be the most sociable. Maybe he would spend some quality Christmas time with her if she asked him politely enough. She tapped her knuckles on his door rhythmically, and the redhead waited patiently for him to appear before her. When the door finally slid open, Catherine's mouth opened, a breath of air coming out before she stopped short. Fred looked disheveled as could be.

"uhhh F...Fred? Everything all right?" she asked. He rubbed a hand over his face and groaned.

"End of the year paperwork. Sucks to be a lieutenant this time of year, anyways, what did you need?" Frederick asked, offering her a tired smile, skipping pleasantries entirely. Catherine's green eyes gained a downcast look, as she realized Fred likely wouldn't be the best candidate, but she was determined to try anyhow.

"I just wanted someone to drink hot cocoa with." she said softly, eyes dropping to look at her feet. Fred's eyes softened as she looked up at him like a begging puppy.

"Cat...I would...but-"

"But you can't. It's fine, I get it. I'll try elsewhere." she mumbled softly as she turned away from his door. "Merry Christmas Fred. I hope you finish your work soon." she mumbled lowly.

Catherine didn't know Linda well. In fact, she barely knew her at all. The redhead watched as the Spartan cleaned her gun with an old rag that looked as if it had once been white before it was used to wipe out the weapon's mechanisms. "I don't like chocolate." Linda muttered.

"Well than what about cider? Or eggnog? I can make eggnog too? Or if you aren't much of a drink person I can make us some sugar cookies or-"

"I don't like sweets. Besides, I need these few days off to clean my arsenal. Won't get the time in the new year." the spartan interrupted. Catherine's demeanor fell, as her whole body seemed to slouch. Of course Linda wouldn't enjoy anything sweet and innocent on her holiday. She should have known she would want to do something more practical with her time.

"oh...ok, that's fine. I'll uhhh just ask Kelly then." she mumbled, slinking away from the gruff woman. She could read in between the lines perfectly. Linda didn't want her around right now. Sheesh. Linda really was a no nonsense person. She should have known the Spartan would have no interest in spending time with her, but she still had hoped.

Catherine knocked lightly on the brunette Spartan's door, hoping the bookworm would be available seeing as her previous attempts at socializing had fallen flat. When Kelly's door finally slid open, Catherine let out a deep sigh, preparing herself to ask her question once more. She was beginning to feel like a broken record.

"Hey...Kelly...umm, I know we're not really close...but I was wondering if maybe you wanted to have a hot chocolate with me? Maybe watch a good Christmas movie and eat cookies too?" she practically pleaded. Kelly blinked as she listened intently to the redhead's request. She could see the dismal look of dying hope in the girl's eyes, and bit her lip. Catherine watched as Kelly gave her a contemplative look, thinking that, surely, Kelly would be the one to not turn her away.

"Catherine….that sounds really lovely, but I have a backlog of mission reports due before the new year. Maybe some other time, if you're still up for it. I'm sorry." she said apologetically. Catherine's eyes widened. They….they really didn't care about her, did they? She was the absolute last priority on their lists. She just wanted an hour or two, and they were so preoccupied with tasks they could have easily been done later that they shamelessly turned her away.

"Oh…" she said softly, a lilt to her voice that suggested her disappointment.

"Cat-"

"No. I should have expected this." she murmured, turning away to stalk down the corridor.

John was her last hope. He didn't usually turn her away, but then again, she didn't usually go to him for support. He was ...reserved, but as much as he irked her she'd admit he was accustomed to the mindset of a mother duck. A very muscular, deep voiced mother duck. A leader. He was a leader. One that she hoped she could count on for a little holiday company. It would be awkward, sitting alone with him over a mug of cocoa and a sugar coated movie that probably wasn't his taste, but it was an opportunity to make a connection of some sort with her commander, even if she hadn't liked him very much up to that point.

He wasn't in his room when she went to look for him, nor the mess. The gym was also a dead end, and in one last attempt to find the master chief, Catherine went to the bridge. If he wasn't there, Lasky would be able to find him, or at least know where he was. It wasn't until she found herself outside of the board's meeting room that she finally came upon him. He was in armor, and she had a feeling that meant he had business to attend to, but that wouldn't deter her in her mission to request his presence. He looked up from his data-pad, and his orange visor met her green eyes. Catherine forced a smile onto her face as she approached him.

"Heya Chief." she started as she came to stand before his sitting form, clicking her boots together and placing her hands behind her back, positioning herself cutely in front of him. John rested his arms on his knees as he leaned towards her. She was up to something. It was written all over her face. "whatcha up to?" she asked, her grin slightly nervous.

"waiting for command." he answered carefully. "I have a few things to discuss with them. Why?" he asked. Catherine bit her lip in anticipation of the answer to the question she had yet to ask.

"Well...I was hoping you'd have a free moment to partake in some Christmas Eve traditions with m-"

"Negative." Catherine's entire facade fell. She hadn't even finished her question yet!

"But I-"

"I have important things to discuss with the board. I don't have time." he interjected. She could simply ask another to partake in whatever traditions she had in mind. He had actual, real world problems to deal with that were much bigger.

Catherine's jaw dropped at his immediate dismissive response. More important things…..oh. He had more important things _than her_. "But...but I thought you were my family! You're supposed to be there for me, and none of you are!" She should have known. Everything they'd tried to convince her of was a lie. She wasn't important to them in the slightest.

"What on earth are you talking about?" he asked, only for the doors to the meeting room to open as a secretary informed him that the board was ready for him. "Actually, nevermind, we'll deal with this later." he decided, turning on his heel. Catherine watched him go, shoulders stiff and jaw clenched. He didn't care that she was standing there, feeling alone and helpless, practically begging for their attention. Begging. Oh dear. It was in that moment that Cat realized something that had not yet occurred to her. She wanted them to want her. A small part of her was actually seeking their approval, their acceptance even. Catherine, with spite in her heart, stomped angrily towards the hanger. If nobody here wanted her around, then she'd find someone who did.

Frederick was more than delighted to pause from his paperwork when the time came around to head to the mess. It was Linda who's presence at his door convinced him to put down his work and join the team for dinner. He hoped Catherine wasn't too sour that he'd turned her down. However, oddly enough, Catherine was nowhere to be found for the duration of the meal.

"Where's our little red haired friend?" he asked casually as he picked at his mashed potatoes. John simply shrugged.

"Likely pouting somewhere. She seemed at her wits end about something a few hours ago. Something about none of us being there for her. I think she's in a mood ...again." John muttered in disdain. He paused, however, when all three members of his team seemed to freeze. It wasn't often that he saw his Spartans lock up in what could only be described as avid tension, with looks of matching mild panic apparent on their faces."Is there something I should know?" he asked in suspicion as he dropped his fork and leaned back in his seat.

"I...there might be….did Catherine...ask any of you about hot cocoa?" there was a simultaneous groan from both Kelly and Linda. "I'll take that as a yes." the lieutenant murmured.

"Speaking of ...what was that all about?" John asked in confusion.

"I think she was lonely." Fred admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "she stopped by, wanted to hang out, but I didn't have time." Catherine making an effort to spend time with them was indeed an unusual occurrence, but not one he would classify as surprising.

"Didn't have time? What was so important?" Linda asked.

"Paperwork Linda, that's what." Fred stated defensively. "What's your excuse?" he shot back. Linda only sputtered.

"I was cleaning nornfang-"

"That's bull-"

"Well what was Chief doing-"

"Stop it! All of you! We're all to blame for this. No, we couldn't just drop everything, but we should have at least followed up with her about it later on. I mean look around you, normal people don't spend their holiday catching up on work, they spend it with people they care about. And Chief, you could have made an effort to call a team meeting, set something up, but that didn't happen. We all brushed her off, and now we need to make amends. Things are icy between us and her as it is." Kelly scolded the group. John let out an exaggerated sigh. There was a moment of silence before Linda spoke up.

"You're right." she mumbled.

"Of course I'm rig-"

"No, Kelly think about it. Normal people spend the holidays with people they care about. With family…."

"And Cat wanted to spend it with us." Fred realized aloud. "And here I thought she was being dramatic"

"Alright, we'll have to hunt her down. Fred, check her dorm, I'll collaborate with Lasky, see if maybe he has a clue as to where she is. Linda and Kelly, see if you can hunt down the chef and get whatever you deem appropriate." the Chief ordered.

"Why do I have to-"

"Because your excuse was the lamest. Cleaning nornfang..pft." Frederick huffed. John simply shook his head at his team. If only he'd taken a little extra time to listen to Catherine. However, John couldn't help but feel the slightest sense of relief that she had been hurt by the whole situation. It meant she had cared, cared about them, about their relationship. She wasn't too far gone after all. At least...he hadn't been.

"What do you mean she 'left'? I didn't authorize that." Lasky sighed, rolling his eyes.

"I'm aware Master Chief. I did. She asked for a solo mission, and I complied."

"you gave her a solo mission in her state? How is that a good idea?" John asked incredulously.

"It's a good idea, because she needed to bash some heads and cool off. I didn't assign her anything too dangerous, just a group of covenant rebels on the outskirts of the recently colonized tundra planets." Lasky assured the Master Chief.

"I don't care about the intensity level of the mission, sir. My marine is in the field while compromised. That's not acceptable." John stated firmly.

"She wanted to feel needed, While it's not exactly the same principal, it'll still remind her that she has some purpose. Unfortunately Chief, what's done is done. I'm leaving in a few hours to go spend Christmas with my family. You're going to have to fix this mess on your own. Like you should have from the start. I can give you the targets coordinates, but I can't do anything short of go out there after her myself. And I think you and I both know my presence out there wouldn't mean as much to her as someone else's." Lasky hinted grimly. John grunted, turned away from the captain, and shuffled out of his office.

"Blue Team, we have a problem. Meet me in the hanger. Sierra 117 out."

Catherine had been poised in the snow for hours, just waiting for the right moment to pull her trigger and snipe the unsuspecting enemy. Her toes were numb, but that was the last thing on her mind. There was still a burn in her chest, and it left her all too distracted from the icy feeling that crept along her body. None of them cared.

'Cassandra was wrong about them. I was wrong about them. The only thing that concerns them their sense of duty. Halsey was right, I'm dealing with machines.' she thought bitterly, aiming her sights onto her newly appeared target. One shot and it would all be ove-

The swooshing sound of an energy sword had Catherine on high alert, and she rolled out of the way just in time to avoid being split in two. A swift kick in her gut had her tumbling through the snow, and down the hill that she had been perched on. She stumbled to her feet, only for her eyes to to meet the hideous sneer of an elite, before something sharp and hot was thrust through her side. The wound, cauterized from the heat of the weapon, only bled for a moment or two, but it was enough to seep into the snow around her motionless body. Catherine heaved a heavy breath, panting slightly. It hadn't hit her lungs, and she was grateful in that moment that her trachea wasn't slowly filling with blood. The group of elites disappeared quickly after the encounter, leaving the red haired woman for dead as she would likely not survive in the cold climate for long. At least not in her current state. Tears welled in her green eyes as she attempted not to writhe in the snow. The pain was icy-hot, leaving her senses discombobulated. The knowledge that her team probably wouldn't even notice her absence when she seemingly disappeared from their lives hurt more than she wanted to admit, and she was forced to hold back a sob. Her vision blurred as time went by, and Catherine came to accept that she was going to die there, alone on Christmas eve. All of a sudden, she could have sworn she heard the distinct sound of crunching snow. Had the elites come to finish her off? Catherine closed her eyes, willing herself to die faster if possible. Something hefted her off the ground, and soon after there was a needle in her arm. Morphine. She briefly recognized the sugary sweet feeling of the drug in her system. Morphine wasn't something the covenant had. It was a drug usually reserved for field emergencies. This was the last thought to pass through her mind, before the black fog claimed her.

No one said a word. It was immeasurably quiet in the med-bay room as Catherine slept. John hadn't been able to bear seeing her small weak form in the large hospital bed, and had opted to hold her gently in his arms. He also hoped that the extra body heat would bring up her temperature. If it wasn't for the bloodstains in the snow, they never would have found her going by the heat sensors in their HUD. The master chief absentmindedly thumbed the stitches in the left side of her abdomen, feeling the bumps of the raised skin. Linda and Kelly eventually went off in search of a meal for when the injured girl woke up, and Frederick decided to check the doctor for her current status, although he didn't have to ask to know things weren't looking good. Frostbite, a concussion, and nine stitches where an energy sword had torn her open. John didn't dare let her out of his sight, despite the fact that she may not be waking up for quite a while.

"I'm so sorry, Catherine." he murmured. "I should have been there for you. I know it's probably too late but ...whatever you want to do, we can do it. I'll watch your movies, and drink hot chocolate, just don't leave us. Not like this." his voice took on a watery tone. "We care about you. I promise. That's a Christmas promise and I double don't break those." he rambled nonsensically to her as she remained unaware of the world around her. "Please, give us another chance." The heart monitor beeped, and John sighed in frustration.

"We can do anything?" John snapped to attention at the sound of the weak voice, as wet drops ran down his cheeks.

"Anything." he assured her, pulling her closer.

"I want chocolate chip cookies then. And I want warm milk to dip them in. And I wanna watch that old movie about that dumb reindeer with the glowy nose." she mumbled against his shoulder as her eyes, with some effort, slid open to meet his gaze.

"Kelly will have a word with the chef." he promised her. "As for...reindeer...I'll send Frederick for a data-pad as soon as he gets back from speaking with the doctor." he assured her. She nodded tirdly, not bothering to move her head from his shoulder. She was still very much medicated, and suffering from a concussion, but her clarity was just strong enough for her to blurt out one question.

"Do you care about me?" she whispered ever so softly. John's hands tightened on her form.

"Without a doubt." he answered. "we all do."


	22. Back In Action

**I know I know, its been an ungodly amount of time since chapter 20, and I'm sorry. My dumb ass started another 3 books, and I lost track of Unnamed. But I assure you, there will be more updates coming soon. As always, feel free to leave a review with an yquestions. Love you guys lots! Ps: This one is a little short but bear with me, there's more on the way. **

**Chapter 21**

Mannon Creelwood's steel-tipped boots thudded dully on the artificial stone beneath her feet as she approached the ornate double door at the end of the hall. Two guards flanked the Forerunner heiress, and were quick to open the doors for her, careful not to make eye contact.

"You asked to see me?" she said, entering the large, open room, with its stained glass windows that reached from the floor to the vaulted ceiling. Upon reaching her place at the center of the room, she dipped into a bow before the occupant of the classically sculpted throne.

"I gave you orders. Orders that you didn't follow. You were to do away with the prisoner upon apprehension. And yet I hear that she lives. Explain to me why Faeyreee Lefelle still lives and breathes on my grounds. Mannon tipped her head upwards towards her mother's figure, and a blank look in her violet eyes. Her wavy, snow white hair bounced with the motion.

"It was suggested to me that I make a spectacle of it. To boost morale against the alliance." Morale was a twisted way of describing the fear they forced upon the people of Calsara, more specifically those who did not reside in the capital. It amused Mannon that people would lay down and accept whatever lie was fed to them if you raised their standard of living.

"Keeping her alive at all is a risk. You are aware of her ties with the captain. Do not be foolish enough to believe she holds no sway over him." It took all of Mannon's patience not to roll her eyes.

"Captain Lance is not foolish enough to waste his career, or more importantly his life on a rebel. The ceremony will be carried out before the end of the day-" Mannon's reply was cut short as the doors behind her were thrown open.

"There's been an emergency!" Mannon whirled around, and grabbed the younger century by the throat.

"Do not ever interrupt me, if you want to keep a head on those shoulders." she snarled, baring her sharp canines menacingly. The young man squeaked in surprise, and Mannon scoffed at him, releasing him from her hold.

"I'm sorry Ma'am, but it's important! Our scanners detected a ship approaching the barrier. It appears to be a human vessel." he relayed, and Mannon's eyes widened. Humans? That had discovered Calsara? That was impossible! There had only ever been one human to achieve such a thing, and he'd done so out of sheer dimwittedness in her opinion. Mannon's eyes settled on her mother's thoughtful figure curiously. Yes, there had been one. The one that had shuttled her aunt off to that human planet. To Earth.

"It is highly unlikely they have realized we are here. In the event that they do discover us, Mannon will be ready for them. And this time, I expect there to be no more prisoners." the lilt in Mevyln's voice told her daughter that if she failed such a task, there would be grave punishment.

"It will be handled." she growled, before turning on her heel. "And when I'm done with them, I'll handle Lefelle." the Forerunner added as she stalked off.

Catherine knew she felt something strange, no matter what the ship's radar said. They had reached their destination, only to see that it wasn't exactly what they had expected it to be.

"There's nothing out here." the Chief pointed out, and Catherine grit her teeth.

"Yes, thank you captain obvious." He wasn't wrong. Before them was what appeared to be an empty expanse of space, but the redhead knew there was something different out there. She could feel a thrum of sorts, like an engine emitting a strange frequency.

"Then why are we still here?" Catherine shot him a dirty look, to which he merely rewarded her with the shrug of his shoulders.

"I'm not crazy. There's something, I just have to find it." she argued. Her intuition was rarely wrong, and she had developed a fierce dependency on it. Her eyes scanned the constellations, looking for some sort of clue. But there was none. It didn't even align to make a picture. She ran her analysis over and over again until the realization hit her. She recognized that frequency, the one that she could feel running through her body on a loop. It was the same one that had emitted off of the composer when she had first been allowed to see it, back before the didact's attack on earth. No one else had been able to feel it then, and John didn't feel it now.

'Because you aren't like them, Firefly.' Catherine shook the voice from her head.

'No. leave me alone, I'm trying to focus.' she scolded. The voices in her head could wait their turn. Catherine's hand settled gently atop the pelican's thrusters, and she slowly edged the ship forward. The ship moved upon command for a moment or two, but after a moment, it seemed to meet a sort of resistance.

"What are you doing?" John questioned, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"That's not me. Something's pushing back." she explained, giving the thrusters a little more push. And then, as if they had never been there to start with, the pelican disappeared. There was a moment in which the light around them flashed a vibrant purple, and then it faded. Catherine opened her eyes to find that their surroundings had changed drastically. There were no stars, but there seemed to be a thick, glowing fog, it's colors mirroring that of the aurora borealis in Catherine's opinion. Amidst the thick fog-like substance, Catherine could see what appeared to be a planet, shrouded by the unexplainable phenomenon around them.

"What is that?" she mumbled, leaning forwards in her seat.

"I find it unsettling that this was _your_ idea, but you happen to be the one asking questions." the Chief stated. Catherine rolled her eyes at him, and began her dissent to the strange planet.

"I only wish I had all the answers." She muttered. As soon as the pelican touched ground, Catherine was out of her seat, and headed towards the back of the ship.

"Where are you going? You just said you don't know what you're doing." The Chief pointed out, following her out of the ship.

"Sitting around isn't going to get me answers. This planet isn't very large, and we know which way civilization is, it couldn't be that hard to find Faerie." she explained as she jogged down the ramp.

"We don't know if anyone here is even friendly Cath. As far as we all knew, Forerunners were extinct up to this point. The fact that there's a planet with an entire civilization of them should be reason enough to take this cautiously." he argued. Catherine paused for a moment, letting herself feel the slight breeze as it wafted around her, ruffling the grass that lay beneath her feet. Was this home? Was this everything she'd been looking for? "Catherine are you even listening to me?" John paused as he ducked out of the pelican, and his eyes settled on the redhead.

"This _feels_ familiar." she said, eyes closed, and posture relaxed. "I don't know how but- we have a mission." she said, cutting herself off. "We need to find Faeyree. Maybe if we have a look around town someone can tell us where to find her."

"Are you gonna explain to me who Faeyreee is or am I just supposed to find that out later?" John asked. Catherine shrugged.

"I don't really know yet. There's…._a lot_ I don't know." she said tenaciously. John gave her a withering look from beneath his visor. She was going to be the death of him. Then again, this wasn't the first time he'd gone off on a half baked wild adventure.

"There seems to be a lot of unknown variables. What exactly are you hoping to achieve with all of this?" His question threw her off for a moment, as she hadn't been expecting it.

"I...I wanna know what's going on. I want answers. Faeyree has them. That's the objective. To get answers." she said, her phrases coming out broken and unorganized.

John's helmeted head dipped in her direction, and Catherine could tell he was giving her a contemplative look. "You'll need to do recon. You're smaller and more unnoticeable. I hate sending you into an uncharted zone alone, but there's less room for disaster. You have one hour. Be inconspicuous…,for once." he added as an afterthought.


End file.
